


Hidden Gardens

by pinky_heaven19



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Photographer Harry, Pining, Pub Owner Louis, Reading during sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinky_heaven19/pseuds/pinky_heaven19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry burst out laughing, the sound mixing with the loud chatter as more people entered the pub.</p>
<p>“I knew you'd say that! It's just too easy to get you riled up, isn't it?” Harry took another sip of his beer, cleaning a little foam off his upper lip</p>
<p>“Why do you like to piss me off so much?” Louis said, rubbing his closed eyes with the tip of his fingers. He didn't feel as angry as he looked, but apparently he had a reputation to keep.</p>
<p>“Believe me, the only time I did it on purpose was just now. Hey, is this going to be our dynamic forever? I come here, you snap at me for no reason at all, throw me out and I come back? It's getting pretty predictable.”</p>
<p>“Why do you keep coming back, exactly?” Louis said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.</p>
<p>“I like your pretty face. And Niall has sick jokes. The beer is fine, too."</p>
<p>OR the one where Louis owns a pub and Harry is a photographer who needs his help for a project. Louis is grumpy, Harry is not. Louis has a secret. There is some pining and a lot of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [Hidden Gardens || Italian Translation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480974) by [always_strong28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_strong28/pseuds/always_strong28)



> Huge thanks to Jaqueline for giving me this prompt and for helping me build this story. She made the whole process super fun. Also, massive thanks to JohnDoe221B for her endless patience in spotting all my typos and mistakes, and for her precious suggestions. Many of them found their way into the story.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it!
> 
> There is a [rebloggable](http://pinky-heaven19.tumblr.com/post/163063074574/pinky-heaven19-hidden-gardens-by-pinkyheaven19) post for this fic.

“God fucking damn it” Louis gritted between his teeth, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes and turned his head to the ceiling. His nose was filled with the smell of freshly spilled beer.

“You alright, mate?” Niall asked, turning to the sound coming from Louis’ direction.

“Yeah, just a broken glass. The perfect ending for a shit day”

“At least it’s almost over.” Niall said with a smile and started to clean the counter top with a rag that probably hadn’t been washed in a few days. He was using alcohol, so it probably made up for it a bit.

Louis bit the inside of his cheek. Niall’s incredible disposition to always see the bright side of things was remarkable. He opened the door behind him to the small kitchen and got a broom, a dust pan, a rag and a bucket. He carefully swept the glass on the floor behind the counter and was crouching to pick up the bigger pieces of glass when he heard the door open and the familiar bell chime.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, not bothering to lift his body up. It was almost closing time and all he wanted to do was call it a day and collapse on his bed. His head was killing him. He knew he needed any client he could get, but he also couldn’t care at that time of day. 

“Good evening!” Niall’s chipper tone filled the completely empty pub.

“Good evening, hi,” a voice replied. Low, but almost as cheerful as Niall’s.

“What can I get you?”

Louis heard the sound of the stool cracking under the man’s weight when he sat down. 

“Oops, hope I don’t break it.” 

“I think you’re good. It’s just older than you are, but very sturdy. Can I get you a drink?” 

“Yeah, I’ll have a…hum…something good and cheap.”

Even in his dark-cloud-over-his-head-mood, a spark of curiosity hit him. The man’s voice was intriguing, deep and raspy. Louis pictured him in his late twenties and short. Probably chubby as well, with the stool breaking comment.

“Coming right up.” Niall’s comment was followed by the sound of the beer tap. 

Louis finished picking up the glass pieces and started to mop up the bit of beer off the wooden floor, which was only partially successful due to the cracks in the fibres of the wood. “Need to change it to something easier to clean,” he thought for the millionth time in the years he’d worked there. 

“Cheers, mate.”

The man definitely had a beard, Louis could tell by his tone. Not a good-looking, trimmed one, but an old-fashioned beard, to make teenage boys jealous. 

“Dreadful weather, huh” Niall chirped and Louis rolled his eyes. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of making small talk with new costumers, who only came once in a lifetime. Louis could be pretty chatty with his regulars, but only because he’d known them for years. 

“Tell me about it. My place is starting to smell like a wet dog because of this constant rain.”

Niall giggled and Louis finally stood up again, his left knee making a popping sound. 

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you there,” the stranger said with a smile.

Louis said nothing. The man, if you could call him that, wasn’t anything like he thought he would be. Tall, very tall, Louis could tell, even when sitting down. Baby face, probably not a day older than twenty. Long, curly hair and definitely not a beard. His long fingers had rings on them and Louis could see traces of a tattoo on his wrist. He wore jeans that were so tight it was probably difficult to fit into them. His black T-shirt was fitting, a plaid red flannel shirt over it. Louis could tell his eyes were light in colour, but he couldn’t see them clearly in the low-lit pub.

“Nice little place you’ve got here,” the stranger continued to both him and Niall, unaffected by the lack of response from Louis, his eyes soft and interested. “Much different than the other pubs I’ve seen around here.”

“Thanks, we try to keep it authentic.” Niall said, and he couldn’t have been closer to the truth. Very few things had changed from when Louis’ grandfather opened it in 1947. Of course some equipment was new, and the toilets had definitely improved, but in terms of furniture and fixtures, it was pretty much the same.

Dark wooden floor, dark wooden counter, dark wooden tables and chair sets (all three of them). There was a rug that used to have a very delicate pattern on it right in the middle of the pub, but years and years of feet and furniture rearranging had dulled it to a dark brown with green smudges. The large, open windows were the same, but the curtains had changed over the years, yet still followed the same dark green slash crimson tones in velvet. They were a pain to wash, so Louis cleaned them only the bare minimum. 

As for the bar itself, it hadn’t changed much. They certainly didn’t offer a great variety of drinks, keeping it simple – and cheap. You couldn’t charge much for a pint if you wanted to sell it in Tottenham. The constant years of spilling beers in bar fights (which were down to a minimum, thankfully) and drunken behaviour made the place have a constant smell of a brewery. To Louis, it smelled like home. 

“My name is Harry Styles,” the stranger finally said, stretching out his hand.

“Niall Horan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Niall,” Harry said, shaking his hand and turning to Louis, who only nodded.

“Louis Tomlinsom.”

Harry kept his hand out only a fraction of a second long when he realised Louis wasn’t going to shake it. 

“Just the man I wanted to talk to,” he said with a grin.

“Me? What business do you have with me?” Louis asked, eyebrows raising suspiciously high. Who was this kid?

“None yet, but I was told you were the right person to help me.”

“I seriously doubt that,” he said, turning his back to the counter and going back to the kitchen to put back the cleaning supplies. He could hear the man talking to Niall and laughing. He waited in the kitchen for a few minutes until it was nine twenty-seven. When he came out, the stranger stopped talking and looked straight at him.

“I was telling Harry that you were having a bad day,” Niall said, always trying to keep the peace “and he has a really cool idea, mate.”

“We close at nine thirty, so I’d appreciate if you could finish your drink,” he pointed to Harry’s half empty glass, “pay for it and leave.”

“Sure, don’t want to be a bother,” he said, reaching for his wallet and putting a few bills on the counter. He finished the rest of the beer in one long gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But I still need your help, it wouldn’t take more than twenty minutes of your time, I promise.”

“I already said I can’t help you, kid.”

“Kid? How old do you think I am?” he replied with an amused smile “How old are _you_?”

“Old enough to ask you to leave _my_ pub.”

“Lou, c’mon.” Niall started, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s already been a hard day, let’s not make it worse.”

“Too late.” Louis said, looking Harry in the eyes. His smile had disappeared from his face, a frown taking its place.

“Well, that’s my cue to go,” he said, getting up and walking to the door, long limbs surprisingly graceful. He got his umbrella and turned around with one last glance behind him. “Good night.”

Niall waved at him and looked at Louis with an exasperated look on his face.

“What the fuck, man? Why did you treat him like that? You need all the costumers you can get!”

“Oh come on, Niall. Do you think he would ever come back, even if I had laid down a red carpet and sprinkled rose petals on him? He’s a rich kid, probably thought this was going to be one of those cool pubs that he sees on TV that have game night and serve veggie burgers.”

“First of all, we do have game nights. Not fancy ones, but we have ‘em. And also, he has this photography project that could be really good for the neighbourhood. For this place.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I don’t need this shit right now,” he said, turning off the bar lights and arranging the chairs around the tables.

“What you need is more people in this bar, and you need all the help that you can get.”

“He’s some rich boy who studies fucking art and you think he could help us? Go home, Niall.”

“I’ll just…”

“Niall, you know you are my favorite leaf in this shitty tree of my life, but I can close up on my own today, thanks. See you tomorrow.” He said, going to the cash register to collect the money from the day, not even bothering to count. It certainly wouldn’t have made him feel better. 

“Okay, mate. See you tomorrow.”

Louis stared at the register in front of him until he heard the bell chime for the last time that day and breathed a sigh of relief. He walked around slowly, closing curtains and locking the door. He flicked the switch that turned off the light behind the sign that read “William's” in front of the pub. When he made sure everything was properly locked up, he set the alarm and went to the kitchen. Almost hidden in a corner was a door, which he locked after him as well. He went up the narrow steps and opened the door to his small flat. 

It had been his father’s hiding place whenever he used to fight with his mother. It was very small, made up of a living room slash kitchen slash dining room, a tiny bathroom and his bedroom. When his father died, Louis sold all the cheap furniture, bought new one and painted the walls. He didn’t mind the cramped space, he was just one person after all, and he kept it clean and tidy. He knew he couldn’t afford any other place that was bigger than his current arrangement, which was completely free. And best of all, there was zero commute to work. In London, you could never take that for granted. 

He quickly brushed his teeth, changed into an old t-shirt and removed his jeans. He thought about watching TV for a while, but his head was threatening to burst at any moment and he really wished for that day to be over soon. He turned off the light and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to his neck to keep himself warm. He was sure he would fall asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, but flashes of his day kept his mind from shutting off.

He tossed and turned. He kept seeing the bills piling up, not just the pub’s but his as well. He’d already sold his car, and that lasted him a little while. But now he was seriously considering the need for a bank loan and that scared him half to death.

“No use worrying about that now, brain.”

To his absolute utter surprise, something different crossed his mind. The guy with the photograph project. He should have asked Niall more questions about it, maybe there really was something there. No, that was silly. Pointless too, since he’d practically kicked the man out of the bar and he wouldn’t come back. Louis knew he personally wouldn’t, if someone had treated him as badly as he had treated the guy.

“Harry, his name was Harry,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath and willing himself to sleep. Eventually, he succeeded.


	2. Chapter 2

Next time Louis saw Harry, he had just gotten in from speaking to their supplier, something that always made him feel jittery, but that day in particular had been worse than others. 

“Got a deal with them?” Niall asked, hopeful.

“Nah. They said they can neither lower the prices nor extend the payment period. Not even a couple of days,” he huffed out, sitting on a stool in front of Niall and hiding his face in his hands. He could feel another headache coming. 

“Shit, man.” Niall said, and squeezed his shoulder. “You know I don’t have to pay my bills until the 9th so if you need a couple more days to set yourself out this month I can-“

“No, no way.” Louis shook his head and faked a smile. “It’s not that bad yet.”

“Focus on the yet,” joked Niall and Louis got up to clear room for a costumer that walked in. There were half a dozen people scattered around the place, most of them drinking from the same glass they’d ordered on arrival. The sun shone through the windows in a rare, dry day. 

“Hey James, what’s up?” He asked the middle aged man who sat down with a sigh.

“Well, I came here at two o’clock in the afternoon, what do you think?” He said with a sign for Niall, who winked at him and went to get a bottle from the shelf behind him.

“Slow day at the shop?” Louis asked, standing next to him.

“I’m almost calling it a day. Good thing I can always come here to chat with you, lads.”

“Cheers!” Niall said, the door bell chimed and they all looked at the door to see who was walking in. “Harry!” Niall called out to him, whose face lit up with a smile. He was wearing a cap that day and a jeans jacket over a plain white T-shirt. He was either wearing the same pair of tight jeans or he had a collection of them. 

“Hey, Nialler. How is it going?”

“Nialler?” Asked Louis, who sounded equally amused and annoyed.

“Shut up, I like it,” Niall replied and shook Harry’s hand. Louis stayed motionless and Harry just nodded.  
“Hey, mate,” he said, adjusting himself on a stool and putting his rucksack on the floor between his feet.

“Hi,” Louis managed to say, and they were all silent for a moment.

“I didn’t know this place was open this early. I was walking by and saw there were some people inside. I was surprised.”

“A lot of people come here during the day.” Niall said, “Do you work night shifts or something?

“I'm just doing odd jobs for now. Nothing that requires a fixed schedule.”

“Oh, I see, the usual?”

“Sure. Do you serve lunch here as well?”

“If you can call crisps and pickle lunch, yeah.” Niall said and Harry’s lips curved up in a smile. 

Niall gave Harry his drink and a group of three people entered the pub, Niall rushing to them. Harry didn’t stop staring at Louis, who was feeling uncomfortable being scrutinized like that.

“What?” he asked, a little more abruptly than he intended to.

“Nothing.” Harry said, sipping his beer and looking at him smugly.

“What?” Louis repeated, walking closer to him and stopping right in front of him. Harry looked at his mouth, then back to his eyes, then back to his mouth again.

“It’s nothing. It’s just that I was warned that you could be a little…grumpy.” Harry said, his tone slow and pensive.

“Grumpy? Who used the term grumpy to talk about me?” Louis could kill them.

“They didn’t actually use the word grumpy, but my mum taught me to always be polite.”

“Who said that?”

“Relax, man. They weren’t being mean, and I don’t think you’re _that_ grumpy. You should meet my uncle Bob.”

Louis’ lip curved up without his permission and he lowered his head. From the corner of his eye he saw Harry fumbling with something in his rucksack. 

“Seriously,” Harry continued, smiling as he spoke “when I was a kid my mum used him as a way to scare me into doing things. Don’t wanna go to sleep? Okay, I’ll call uncle Bob and he’ll tuck you in. Taking too long in the bath? I’ll call uncle Bob. Fighting with your sister? Uncle Bob.”

“Never had a scary uncle like that,” Louis found himself saying.

“Maybe you’ll become scary uncle Louis, short and full of anger.” Harry said with a grin, teasing.

Louis barked out a laugh. The sound surprised not only him, but also Niall, who shot his head in his and Harry’s direction, a smile appearing on his own face. Louis’ good mood was short lived when he heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter. For him it was something strangely intimate. He didn’t like the thought of a stranger having a photo of him. Especially happy and smiling 

“Did you just take a picture of me?” He asked Harry, all traces of his smile gone from his face.

“Yeah, I figured that since you laugh so rarely it should be documented,” his tone was still light.

“I didn’t say you could take a picture of me,” he said, coming closer and feeling his face heat up, his jaw tense.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was such a big deal. I can delete it if you want to.”

“Get out,” he said, teeth clenched shut. He hated having his picture taking.

“Here we go…” Niall mumbled and walked over to them, still behind the counter.

“Mate, look, I didn’t mean to of-“

“I said get out,” his voice was louder and some of the clients looked in their direction. Harry sighed and got up from his chair, putting his camera inside his rucksack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Is there a suggestion box somewhere? I have a few things I’d like to say,” he said, waving at Niall and walking towards the door. Despite all that, he didn’t look really mad.

When he was out, everybody looked at Louis, who suddenly felt embarrassed enough to feel his cheeks pink. 

“Never pays,” he managed to say, and some nodded in understanding. 

“Good one, mate,” Niall said next to him.

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Clearly. You realize he didn’t actually pay, right? You scurried him out before he even could.”

“A couple of quids won’t make a difference.”

“Are you sure?” Niall side-eyed him and went back to chat with the costumers at the opposite end of the counter.

It was another week before Louis saw Harry, and the bar was starting to get crowded. It was pouring and unusually cold for a March evening. Louis saw the head of damp wild curls above most heads in the place when he entered the pub,running his fingers through his hair. His wet hair was darker and his eyes bright, although Louis still couldn’t make out if they were green or blue. He went straight to the counter, but ignored Louis completely, going straight to Niall.

“Hi mate, I'm really sorry I forgot to pay the other night, I felt shit about it but only had the time to come in now,” he said in a hurry, putting a couple of bills on the counter. 

“It's alright. We have a few people who collect money from debts, but you were still safe.”

Louis watched as Harry grinned widely, making himself comfortable on a stool right in front of Niall. 

“I hope I never get to meet them. It's almost crowded here, today.”

“Game night.”

“Oh, cool. In this case, get me a pint, please.”

“Sure thing.” Niall said, and was quick to come back to where Harry was sitting with a perfectly drawn pint, hurrying to the table that called him.

Harry took out his phone from his backpack, put his elbows on the counter and started typing. Louis' eyes wandered from the rings on his long fingers to the focused expression on his face. The collar of his long-sleeved white shirt was a little loose from too much wearing, and he was wearing tight jeans. Again.

“I can see you staring at me from the corner of my eye, you know,” he said without looking up from his phone, and only then Louis noticed that he was just standing there, holding a glass in his hand.

“I wasn't staring at you.”

“Watching me, then.” he said looking at Louis with a smirk. 

“Well, you happen to be right in the direction of the TV, kid.”

Harry looked up and behind him to where the big, flat screen TV was mounted on the wall.

“The game hasn't started yet.”

“I like the commercials.” Louis shrugged.

“Sure you do,” he said, and turned his attention to his cell phone. “Who's playing?”

Louis walked up to him, leaning his weight on one leg.

“What do you mean who's playing? Tottenham is playing!” He couldn't believe this kid didn't know there was a Tottenham game about to start.

“I'm more of an Arsenal man myself.”

Louis closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“That's it, get out.”

Harry burst out laughing, the sound mixing with the loud chatter as more people entered the pub.

“I knew you'd say that! It's just too easy to get you riled up, isn't it?” Harry took another sip of his beer, cleaning a little foam off his upper lip

“Why do you like to piss me off so much?” Louis said, rubbing his closed eyes with the tip of his fingers. He didn't feel as angry as he looked, but apparently he had a reputation to keep.

“Believe me, the only time I did it on purpose was just now. Hey, is this going to be our dynamic forever? I come here, you snap at me for no reason at all, throw me out and I come back? It's getting pretty predictable.”

“Why do you keep coming back, exactly?” Louis said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I like your pretty face. And Niall has sick jokes. The beer is fine, too.” he said, taking a sip.

Louis didn't have time to reply to that as more and more people gathered on the counter with orders before the game started. Game nights were great for business, and he'd stocked up on food and beverages of different types. He saw, from the corner of his eye, Harry stand up and walk confidently to a table where three people were sitting, two men and one woman. Louis knew all of them because they were regulars and pretty nice people. In fact, he knew everybody in that room except for Harry. 

Most people who came into his pub were regulars. People who had been going there since his father owned the place. Workers looking for cheap fun. There weren't many hobbies they could afford, but drinking with buddies was always an option for them. Some, Louis knew, drank to forget, but they almost never started trouble and Louis prouded himself on keeping the peace at all times. He was also quite proud of the fact that he knew a part of their life stories, knew what to ask when they came in and how to listen attentively.

Harry shook hands with everybody at the table and they invited him to sit down with them in a matter of seconds. Harry sat facing the counter, and Louis saw that his eyes were interested in the conversation and that an open smile was the norm for him. 

As the game started and people turned their direction to the screen, Louis couldn't stop staring (yes, he admitted he was staring) at Harry, the way he moved his hands when he talked and paid attention to everybody that spoke to him. Anybody who walked past their table got a handshake and an introduction.

“Mate, I hate to tell you, but you're being too obvious.” Niall said as he hurried past him, both walking back and forth to tend to people.

“Obvious about what?” he asked, faking innocence.

“That you wanna walk over there and suck face with him,” he said with a smug grin.

“Jesus, Niall. Have you been drinking as well?”

“I've just had three pints, mate. I'm trying to cut it down, ya know.”

“That's an improvement.”

Louis was relieved that Niall was too busy to keep the conversation going. It was half-time when Harry walked up to the counter and directly to Louis, this time.

“Another pint, please.” he said, too pleased with himself. 

“Enjoying yourself, kid?” Louis asked as he quickly filled another glass for him.

“Very much, yes. I love talking to new people, and everybody here is so friendly. Except for you, of course., he joked, and nodded as Louis gave him his glass, going back to the table. Cheeky bastard.

The night definitely warmed up as people got drunker and Tottenham scored a goal. Louis smiled when Harry shouted along with everyone, high-fiving everybody within reaching distance. He was a fun person to watch. 

The game ended two to one, and Harry was back at the counter the second it was over.

“Listen, Louis, I have to run, but I wanted to give you this,” he said, pulling a carefully wrapped box out of his rucksack. 

“Is this a joke, kid?” Louis asked without any intention of picking it up from Harry's hands.

“This is called a present. You take it, say thank you, unwrap it and act grateful even if you hate it.”

“Stop patronizing me like that.” Louis said, angrier than he had been the whole night.

“Then stop calling me kid. You're only two years older than me, it's bullshit.”

“How do you know I'm two years older than you?”

“Nialler told me you were twenty four. I'm good at math like that,” he said, shaking the box in front of Louis, “Come on, open it.”

Louis sighed and took the present, quickly ripping the paper. He held in his hand a wooden box, light in color and smooth to the touch. There was a slit in the middle of the lid, and when Louis opened it he found it was empty. 

“There's nothing here.”

“No shit, Sherlock. It's a suggestion box. It goes with this” he pulled a paper from his rucksack and stretched it on the counter. It read **SUGGESTION BOX**. “I would have carved it on the lid, but time was pressing. You could really use one. In fact, I have my first suggestion here,” he said, slipping a folded piece of paper in the slit.

Louis rolled his eyes, opened the box and read it aloud.

“Get a suggestion box.”

“And you've already followed that, how nice of you,” Harry said with a grin, taking out his small umbrella from his rucksack and then adjusting it in one shoulder. “I gotta run, trains to catch and all. Hey Niall, bye mate!” He shouted, and Niall shouted bye back. “I hope you make good use of it. See you later, Louis.”

“Bye, kid. Harry, bye Harry” he corrected himself and Harry smiled openly before turning his back to him and saying goodbye to the people he'd spent the night with, opening his umbrella and facing the heavy rain. Louis had the feeling he would be back again soon.


	3. Chapter 3

“Louis Tomlinson, are you folliowing me?”

Louis froze in place, the basket in his hands still swinging from the sudden stop. Was it weird that it took him no time at all to recognize Harry's voice? He turned around and sure enough, there he was, smiling bright.

“I could say the same thing.” Louis said, trying not to stare at Harry's absurdly long legs, exposed by his track shorts. He was wearing a black, long sleeved, cotton shirt and had a headband tied around his head, keeping his hair out of his face. He looked flushed and the hairs on the back of his neck were damp with sweat. “What are you doing here?”

“Hum...well...” Harry looked from the basket in his hands – which contained an unusual amount of fruits and a probably unhealthy amount of yogurt – to the toilet paper aisle next to them. “Grocery shopping, what else?”

“No, I mean, here, in this supermarket.” Louis insisted. Harry still looked confused. “Like, in this area of the city?”

“Well, it's closest to home, so I don't have to carry heavy bags for too long,” he answered, still looking like he didn't quite understand the reasoning behind the question.

“You live near here? In actual Tottenham?”

“Yeah, moved here from Cheshire about two months ago. Where do you think I lived?”

Louis blinked. “I don't know. Not here.” He started walking in the direction of the cash registers and Harry followed him. Harry's eyebrows shot up, understanding dawning on him.

“Oh, I see. You thought that because I like to photograph people I must be some rich boy whose daddy supports him financially, is that it? That I only came to your pub to see how the other side lived.”

Louis looked down, suddenly embarrassed.

“Maybe.”

Harry let out a humorless laugh.

“Well, that explains why you can't stand me.”

“It's not like that,” Louis was quick to say, because it really wasn't. Harry had a way of getting on his nerves, but he didn't actually dislike him. How could he, when Harry was so nice?

He rang up his few items while Harry stood next to him. He caught a whiff of his smell with a hint of deodorant under it. He moved one step away.

“We like the same type of cheese,” Harry said to him as Louis bagged his groceries. The comment was so typical of Harry that Louis couldn't help but smile.

“And you like yogurt a lot.”

“I've got cupons for that,” Harry said triumphantly as he handed them to the cashier. “Gotta love a good deal.”

Louis shook his head, waiting for Harry to finish paying for his own groceries before leaving the supermarket. It was already 10 o'clock and he needed to be at pub at 11 to open. 

“Here,” Harry said when they walked out the door, handing Louis a couple of plastic bags, “you can help me bring those home.”

“Excuse me? I'm not walking you home.”

“You already are.” Harry smiled at him and nudged his hands in Louis', who took the bags. Only then he realized he was walking beside Harry on the opposite direction of his own place. “I live only a few blocks away, I'll give you a special treat if you do.”

“I don't want any special treats from you” Louis scoffed, but he had no arguments, really. He was still walking Harry home.

When they reached his place, Louis was not surprised to see it was an old, four-story building. Most housing was like that in this part of the neighborhood. He watched as Harry fumbled with the keys, taking more bags from his hands to help him.

“There, you're home.”

“No, sir. You're walking me to the door.” Harry said, looking back and smiling with his mouth closed. Louis had to fake a sigh this time.

“What floor do you live?”

“Fourth.”

“Of course,” he said, and followed Harry up the stairs. He avoided looking up, he didn't want to give Harry the chance to say he was staring at his ass, and focused on his own dirty trainers. “Excuse me,” he said as he entered Harry's flat, curiously eyeing it from the door. Harry motioned for him to follow him to the kitchen.

Harry's place was bigger than Louis', but still small. He had a nice TV, but the couch looked old and lumpy. The flat was nicely decorated, with a few plants here and there that made Louis smile. He saw a very short hallway which led to three doors. The kitchen had a lot of cabinets and there were some pots hanging on the wall above the sink.

Louis was awkwardly standing in the middle of Harry's flat, and the strangeness of it hadn't escaped him.

“You can put the yogurt in the fridge,” Harry said as he started to remove the fruits out of the bags.

“Okay...” Louis mumbled. Harry was probably the only person in the world to invite a complete stranger into his house and then ask him to open the fridge. In Louis' world he was, at least. He opened the door to the fridge to find it was almost empty, except for butter, a lonely bottle of milk and some eggs. No leftovers to be found. The vegetable drawer was filled to the brim, though.

“Are you one of those health freaks or something?” He asked Harry while stacking the yogurt, who turned to his direction.

“No,” he laughed, “why?”

“Well, look at you.” Louis gestured towards Harry, and he meant the sporty clothes, but realized half a second later what it sounded like.

“Why, thank you,” Harry bowed slightly, a huge grin on his face. “You're quite fit yourself.”

“No, I didn't mean that! I mean with the exercising and vegetables and stuff.” Louis said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Don't you eat vegetables?”

“Well, yeah. I'm a responsible adult, I eat my greens. But I certainly balance it with junk food.”

“That makes two of us,” Harry said, putting some of the fruits in the fridge and arranging some in a huge fruit bowl.

“You should freeze some of this yogurt, it's going to spoil before you eat all of that.”

“How do you know I don't eat two gallons of it a day? Besides, I don't think you can freeze yogurt.”

“Of course you can. You can freeze anything, can't you?”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before replying.

“Eggs. I don't think you can freeze eggs.”

Louis honest to God laughed at that, and Harry watched him amused.

“You talk some crazy shit, you know that?”

“At least I'm the funny one, not the grumpy one.”

Louis was still giggling when Harry crouched in front of the fridge to rearrange the new contents in it.

“Well, this was fun but I gotta go,”

“Thanks for helping me with the groceries,” Harry said, opening a cabinet door and getting something from a high shelf, “Here is your treat.”

He handed Louis a small bag of gummy bears and Louis smiled at him fondly.

“Oh, you were serious about that.”

“I'm always serious when it comes to treats and snacks,” he said with a very fake look on his face.

“Thanks, these will give me energy to walk back to my place,” he moved towards the door, Harry right behind him.

“I imagine you don't live far.”

“I live upstairs of the pub, actually.”

“Lucky, no commute to work.”

“Exactly!” Louis said and bit his lips to hide his excited smile. He had the impression Harry saw it nonetheless. “See you later, then.”

“You say it as if I was going to your pub again.” Harry mocked.

“Well, aren't you? I thought you liked Niall's jokes and my pretty face.”

“I do, but the owner is a bit of an asshole, keeps kicking me out.”

“I'll talk to him so it doesn't happen again.”

“Thanks, I'll also leave him a note in the suggestion box.” Harry said, and waved as Louis walked away and down the stairs. His mood had improved enough for him to hum to a tune while he made the short seven blocks walk. 

“Hey, Niall,” he greeted the blond man with a smile and a wave. “You came in early.” Niall's shift started officially at noon.

“Thought I'd ask you to leave an hour early today. Some of my mates are meeting up and I kinda want to join them.

“Sure. Gummy bears?” He offered the package to Niall, having already munched down half of it.

“Yes, please!” Niall was too excited when it come to food, and shoved a handful in his mouth.

“I'll put the rest of the groceries away, be right back.” Louis said, and quickly put away the things he'd bought for himself before washing his face and coming back down. He started to sweep the floor, and was so lost in his thoughts that he was startled when Niall spoke to him.”

“What's gotten into you, today? You are humming and you're not frowning.”

“I am? I hadn't noticed that.” Louis shrugged his shoulders. Niall eyed him suspiciously and Louis opened his mouth and closed it again.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, back to sweeping.

“What? Tell me.” Niall dropped the change he was counting and walked to where Louis was.

“I ran into Harry at the shops today.”

Niall's brows furrowed.

“Harry who?”

“Harry, the photographer guy.”

“Ohhh, _that_ Harry” Niall's smile turned mischievous and he wiggled his brows, making Louis laugh.

“It's nothing like that. He's fun, that's all. I walked him home and helped him with his groceries.”

“Is that what kids are calling it nowadays? Putting away groceries?” 

Louis lightly punched him in the arm. “We talked about eggs, it was actually weird now that I think about it. And he gave me the gummy bears as a treat.”

“Isn't he conditioning you well?” Niall joked and got another punch on the arm, a little harder this time.

“Back to work, Irish boy.”

“As you wish, sir” Niall fake saluted and got back to the register.

When Harry came to the pub again, it wasn't in a situation Louis expected it to be. It was still 7:30 in the morning, and Louis had been up at 6 o'clock to give the pub a thorough clean. He managed to keep it clean enough with a daily sweep and mopping, but once a month he paid two people to come and clean it top to bottom. This month he couldn't afford that. It was either that or paying Niall, and he didn't spare it a second thought before happily giving Niall the money he always worked hard for, and setting the alarm early for the next day. He wasn't a stranger to hard work.

His head snapped up when he heard a knock on the door, and could see through the glass a smiling Harry. He wiped his hands on his trousers and went to the door to unlock it, already smiling, although a bit confusedly.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Saw the lights on while I was running. Saw you hard at work and thought you might like this.” He said, waving a paper bag in front of Louis face. When he opened it, a delicious smell reached his nose.

“Banana muffins?” He asked, already taking one out of the bag and biting into it.

“They're my favorite, I hope you like them too. Your hands are gross, you should probably wash them before you eat” Harry pointed to Louis' dusty fingers, who managed to smear his hand across Harry's cheek. “Hey! Don't do that!” He rubbed at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I'm being nice to you.”

“Sorry, you really are. Why, though?” He asked with his mouth full. 

“I'm trying to buy my place in heaven. Thought I might start with you,” he said, and walked in. He looked around and saw all the chairs up on the tables and all the bottles of drinks lined up on the counter. “Wow, you're really up to something here.”

Louis moved his eyes from Harry's bum before speaking. He was clad in the same pair of shorts from the other day, but he was wearing this nice grey shirt, a little damp under his arms and on his back. 

“I'm doing some real cleaning today.”

“As opposed to fake cleaning?” Harry joked, and Louis rolled his eyes. “Can I help?”

“You wanna help me clean?” Louis asked with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, I have nothing planned all day and it looks like you need a hand.”

“Thanks, but I can't let you do that.”

“Why not? I'm great at dusting, and I bet I can reach higher places than you.”

Louis' mouth popped open, a few crumbs falling from it.

“You did not joke about my height.”

“I did.” Harry's grin was so endearing that Louis couldn't even fake being angry anymore.

“Fine, but I'll have you do windows just because of that comment.”

“Great! Love doing windows” Harry replied sarcastically, but caught one of the buckets on the floor and started to fill it with water from the sink. Louis watched as he hummed and poured some soap into the water. Louis went back to cleaning all the bottles with a wet and then a dry rag. It was not a minute later that he heard music blasting from Harry's phone on the counter.

“What's that?” He asked.

“Offspring. 'I Want You Bad' is the perfect song to put me in the mood for cleaning. But the whole playlist is good, if I say so myself.”

“You have a playlist for cleaning?” Louis asked incredulously.

“Of course! I have a playlist for everything. For running, for cooking, for long baths, for sex...”

Louis snorted.

“Do you actually play it, though? Do you actually stop what you're doing and go 'wait let me just turn this on real quick'?”

“I've actually done that, yeah,” Harry giggled as well. 

“What's in that playlist?”

“You'd like to know.” Harry teased and if Louis were a little less experienced, he would blush. He turned his face away just in case.

He watched as Harry expertly washed the windows and used a squeegee to finish it off perfectly.

“Something tells me you've done this before.”

“Yeah, I've picked up a lot of cleaning jobs. Also, I'm not a slob, I wash my own windows,” he turned to face Louis quickly and turned his attention back to the task at hand. 

“This is what you do, then? You do odd jobs to make ends meet?”

“Mostly, yeah. I do sell some pictures, but I can't rely only on it to support myself. What I need is a big art exhibit to put my name out there. Then I could make big bucks with it.”

Louis thought about the first day Harry entered the pub and what Niall told him. He bit his lips before asking.

“Was that what you had in mind when you first came looking for me? To take pictures of this place?”

“Yeah. I like to photograph things, but I love to photograph people the most. Don't get me wrong, I think everybody is interesting, but I know this pub has been around a long time and that mostly locals come here. I thought it would be nice to photograph them and write a bit about their life, you know? Kind of like that 'People from NY' thing. But here, in Tottenham.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Thanks.” Harry said, moving to the other wall. 

“You could still do that, if you think it's a good idea. I can point out the most interesting people to you, if you want.” Louis said cautiously.

“Really? You'd that?” Harry's smile was so big that Louis smiled as he nodded. 

“Sure. There are quite a few people worth writing about. How many people are you thinking?”

“I think about a dozen? Fifteen?”

“I can do that.”

“Thanks, Lou. It would be really good for the neighborhood and for the pub as well.”

Now Louis blushed. Harry calling him Lou was too intimate for a person he barely knew, but he didn't mind it at all.

“Okay, let's do the outside now.” Harry said as Shania Twain's Man I Feel Like a Woman echoed around the place. Louis was focused on putting all the bottles back to their places when he heard a knock on the window. He looked around and burst out laughing as he saw Harry pressed up against the window as if something was pushing him, his face squished against the glass, his tongue out.

“You're a child, for God's sake.” He shouted for Harry to hear him and that earned him a laugh. Harry was back to cleaning and Louis was surprised at how fast they'd managed to finish it. It was a little after ten and the place was sparkling. 

Both him and Harry were sweating and both their clothes were dirty with stains of various colors. Harry's grey shirt had a big bleached spot and it was completely wrinkled. 

“I guess I owe you a new shirt.” Louis pointed out.

“Nah, I'll just spray some more bleach on it and it'll be a piece of fashion statement.” Harry said, gulping down water and running the back of his hand on his forehead.

“You deserve something stronger than water after that. Come on, I'll pour you one on the house.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, and Louis washed his hands before getting both of them glasses full of their best brand of beer. 

“Hey, I have an idea. Come with me.” Louis said, motioning for Harry to go behind the counter and into the kitchen with him. Harry was familiar with the small kitchen, having spent a good hour scrubbing every stainless steel surface until it shone bright. He'd noticed a door but didn't ask about it.

“Where are we going? To your place?”

“A little higher than that,” Louis said with a smirk, and Harry followed him without a word. “We're going to my favorite place in the world.”

“I don't understand.” Harry said as Louis rushed him though his flat and opened the window that led to a teeny tiny fire escape.

“You will. I think you don't have a playlist for that, though.” Louis smiled and led Harry out the window.


	4. Chapter 4

When they emerged from the ladder and into the roof top, Louis first, he stopped and looked back to see Harry's reaction. He loved to show people the work he was most proud of.

“Holy shit,” Harry mumbled, looking around himself with his mouth hanging open. Louis beamed with pride.

“Nice, isn't it?” He said, not able to contain himself. Taking care of his garden brought him more joy than the pub ever could.

“Are you kidding me? This is beautiful,” Harry said as he took a few steps forward, his eyes going from each plant and always coming back to the tree right in the middle of the roof. 

The tree was the center of attention in the space. It wasn't big, around four meters tall, but it was still impressive with its thick branches and dark green leaves. There was a small wooden bench underneath it, standing directly on the dirt floor. 

The rest of the place was decked with light wood, and it was absolutely packed with flower pots, some as small as coffee mugs and some as big as barrels. Hanging from a metal frame around the whole place were more vases, filled with ferns of all kinds and lenghts. To the opposite end of where they stood there was the wall from the building on the back of the pub, about 5 meters tall and it was completely covered in thick ivy. 

To the right there was another wall, this one with apparent dark red bricks, just a little bit of ivy covering them. In this particular corner stood a long table with a wooden covering structure that was attached to the wall. Harry walked that direction, taking deep breaths of surprisingly fresh air.

“These are amazing,” he said, pointing at the several pots with succulents of all shapes. 

“Thanks,” Louis said, smiling so big his face was starting to hurt. He watched as Harry moved on to the side of the table with his small herb garden. He was trying to expand that, but he wasn't much of a cook anyway. 

Harry ran his fingers through the basil leaves and smelled them.

“One of my favorite smells in the whole world,” he said with a shy green. 

“Mine too. Hey, this is my tea area” Louis said, pointing to long, rectangular pots that had all sorts of flavors growing. Fennel, lemongrass, mint and chamomile. All his favorites.

“No way, this is so cool. May I?” Harry asked, touching the mint leaves.

“Sure.”

Harry picked one out and put it in his mouth, chewing with his front teeth before letting it on his tongue.

“So delicious,” he said with a small piece stuck to his front teeth. Louis decided not to say anything about it. 

Harry walked the whole place, stopping every step to admire all the plants around him. Hydrangeas, lilacs, lillies, daisies, amongst many others. Of course they weren't in bloom yet, but they were still beautiful to look at. He stopped at a wild bush of red roses and smelled them.

“Do you know you can eat rose petals?” He asked, still not looking at Louis, too fascinated with the place to turn his attention to him.

“Yeah, but they taste horrible.”

“My mum puts them in her tea sometime. One petal in a pot and it doesn't taste so bad.”

“I can see where you got your weirdness from, then.” Louis teased, but Harry barely listened to him.

“I feel like we're in another dimension. Like we stepped into another reality or something,” he said in a dreaming voice, “Like this can't actually be crowded, busy Tottenham.”

“My feelings exactly. Come, let's sit and rest,” he motioned for him and walked to the bench, sitting with a sigh. The shades of the tree made the air feel pleasantly cool, which was exactly what he needed right now, given the fact that he was still feeling hot from all the cleaning. 

Harry walked around the place one more time, letting his eyes be filled with green everywhere he looked, and finally got back to the bench. He smirked and took his trainers and socks off.

“What are you doing?” Louis eyed him curiously.

“Sitting to rest,” he answered as he stood on the bench and grabbed a branch of the tree, pulling himself up and using his bare feet on the trunk as leverage to climb, groaning softly until he stood on a particularly firm branch and looked down at Louis, who was staring at him in disbelief. “Come on up.”

Louis had to clear his throat before speaking. The sight of Harry's back muscles under the thin fabric of the shirt as he climbed were a little too much for him. “I'm rather comfortable here, thank you.”

“Oh come on, you're telling me that you don't climb here to think every once in a while?” He asked, adjusting himself on a sitting position, his bare feet swinging beside Louis' head. 

“No, I'm not twelve.”

“You're right, you're as grumpy as if you were a sixty-year-old man who hasn't had sex in ages.” 

Louis grabbed Harry's big toe and pulled down on it hard, making Harry scramble for support.

“Hey!” Harry said as he laughed, seeming not to be bothered by that at all. Louis looked up at him and smiled. Harry's hair was hanging around his face, framing it, and his dimple was on full display, giving him a boyish look that made Louis' heart skip a beat. 

They were silent for a few moments until Harry climbed down and sat next to Louis. His hands had flakes of tree bark on them and he smelled like dirt. 

“Did you do this all by yourself?” Harry asked, still admiring the place in awe. His feet were firmly planted on the ground, the tip of his toes digging into the dirt.

“Not all of it. That green wall there, covered in ivy, has been around for years. And I think my grandad planted this tree here. I've asked my dad about it, but he said he always remembered the tree being here and that he never cared to ask my grandad about it. I'm 99% sure he did it, because he had to bring all this dirt up here, you know. There's dirt under the wood pallets as well, about 40 centimeters of it”

“Your grandpa must have loved gardening, then.”

“I think so, I never met him.”

“Why did you put the wooden deck in the first place? I would have put grass all over the place.”

“It used to be like that, but a few years ago I decided to change things up a bit. If I change my mind again all I have to do is rip it off.” 

“Did you do it yourself?” Harry asked, looking at the carpentry work with furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I used to go out with a bloke who was a very good carpenter, he taught me a few tricks and helped me with most of it.”

“Aren't you a man of many talents.” Harry teased, nudging him on the side. Louis giggled and moved away.

“This bench was already here, though,” he said as his hand tapped the dark wood, “all I had to do was give it a good coat of varnish and it's lasted like that for a few years.”

“This is all incredible, Lou,” Harry said, placing his hand on Louis' arm and squeezing it. Louis found himself looking directly into Harry's serious eyes, green all around him and staring at him as well. “You're very talented, this is the most amazing garden I've ever seen.”

“Now you're just lying.” Louis said, blushing slightly. He was actually shy when it came to compliments.

“I'm really not, it's impressive. If I were you I'd never leave this place.”

“You're welcome to come anytime you want.” Louis said before he could contain himself. It was just as surprising to him as it was to Harry that he actually meant that. 

“Thanks, I'll break into your place and sneak up here when I feel like it, then,” he teased and squeezed Louis' knee before standing up. “I have to get going now, you have to open this place soon and a shower would do you good.”

“Look who's talking. You literally have leaves in your hair right now.”

“I do? Do you think I should make a flower crown to go with them?” Harry said, but removed the leaves nonetheless. 

“I'll pick you some when they're in bloom.” Louis said and followed him down the steps. He noticed that Harry was taking a good look at his small flat when they returned, but said nothing about it. When they emerged in the bar area Louis spoke again. “Thanks for all the help with the cleaning, I really appreciate it.”

“You're welcome” Harry said as he caught a paper napkin and a pen from the counter and wrote something on it. He carefully folded it and slipped into the suggestion box that was forgotten in a corner.

“Another great suggestion?”

“My suggestions are always great, so yes,” he said with a smug smirk and picked up his phone from the counter. “Can I get your number to arrange for the photographs?”

“Sure” Louis picked the phone from his hand and entered his number, saving it as “Louis from the pub” and adding a soccer ball emoji to it. He handed it back to Harry.

“Thanks. You'll go with me to meet the people, right?”

“You want me to go with you?”

“Yeah, I want to ask them a few questions and I doubt they'll open up much to a stranger. If you're with me I might get some decent stories.”

“Yeah, if you want me to, I can go,” Louis said, looking down at his feet, feeling suddenly shy as if Harry was asking him on a date. It was ridiculous, really. “I'm free most mornings and Sundays.”

“Cool, can we arrange for something this weekend?” Harry asked, pocketing his phone and putting in his earplugs. 

“Yeah, we'll text the details.”

“Great,” he said, walking to the door. “See you around, Lou. Bye,” he waved and walked out the door. Louis waved him back and as soon as Harry was out of sight he covered his face with his hands. What the hell was he getting himself into?

Louis was able to contain himself and didn't text Harry once. He just stared at his profile picture on the texting app and thought about it. It was an extremely close up picture of his face and his tongue sticking out. Louis was expecting something a little more artistic coming from a photographer, but you would never see him complaining. It was Friday night when Harry texted him and asked if they could visit someone on Sunday, and it was agreed that they would meet at the pub and walk from there. 

On Sunday morning Louis woke up early and tended to his garden for about an hour before taking a shower and getting dressed. It was a warm morning and he opted for jeans and a black top. It was ridiculous for him to be thinking about his outfit to meet Harry, yet there he was. 

He was too jittery to wait until 9 o'clock, so he went up the garden one more time and got a pot with a succulent in it, one Harry seemed to like more than the others, and walked to his flat. When he got there, he stared at the intercom and let his finger hove over the “H. Styles” button. He hadn't been invited to Harry's place, hadn't announced himself and it was still 8:30. He was probably not ready yet and it was incredibly rude of Louis to just barge in like that. He pressed the button anyway.

“Yeah?” A voice that didn't sound like Harry's answered.

“Hum, hi. Harry? It's Louis.”

“Louis...? Oh, right! Come on up.” It definitely wasn't Harry speaking, but the door buzzed open and Louis climbed the steps two at a time. It wasn't a second long before he knocked on the door and it was opened. There stood a man he'd never seen in his life. Yep, definitely not Harry. He was smiling just as big, though.

“Hey mate, come in. Nice to meet you. I'm Liam.”

Louis shook his hand and stepped inside. The man had a towel hanging from his shoulder and his short hair was damp.

“Harry is still in the shower. I thought you were meeting someplace else?” Liam gave him a questioning look. “That's what he told me, anyway.”

Louis cleared his throat. “Yeah, we were supposed to meet at the pub, but I decided to...hum.” He trailed off, not knowing how to explain why he was there. He didn't know it himself, if he was being honest. 

Liam walked to the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

“Tea?”

“No, thanks. I'm fine. Are you his flatmate or something?” He found himself saying before he could stop himself.

“His flatmate?” Liam gave him a quick glance. “No, I'm not his flatmate.”

“Right.” Louis stuffed his free hand in his pocket. His other hand was holding the stupid blue flower pot, which he never should have brought. He never should have come in the first place. Had he arrived five minutes early and he probably would have found them both still in the shower. 

They stood in awkward silence as Liam fixed two cups. That had been a terrible idea. He was about to say that he was going to wait for Harry downstairs when he finally walked out of the bathroom. A little bit of steam followed him out as he towel dried his hair and walked to them. He was wearing tight blue jeans only. Louis could see the white line of his underwear peeking above his jeans and the fine line of dark hair below his navel. 

He'd never seen even Harry's arms before, and to see him without a shirt on was more than he could handle. He let his gaze linger maybe just a little too long. Harry wasn’t a very buff man, but Louis could make out his abs easily. Thay started right under an intricate butterfly tattoo, that may or may not be a moth. Harry was an artist after all. He probably liked strange things. 

Louis felt his mouth fill with saliva as he watched the muscles on Harry's hips move when he walked, the beautifully tattooed laurels shaping his v-line.

“Hey, Lou,” he cheerfully greeted him, his smile reaching his ears. “I thought we were meeting at the pub.”

“Yeah, well. I was up early.” It was the only explanation he provided, and Harry nodded as if it made complete sense. 

“I'm off.” Liam said, grabbing a rucksack on the couch and walking towards them. He shook Louis' hand one more time and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek. “There's tea on the sink. See you later tonight?”

“Yeah, good luck in the game.” Harry waved him off and Louis did the same, trying not to look as idiotic as he felt. 

“It was nice to meet you, Louis. I'll stop by at your pub some time, Harry tells me it has real character.”

“See you there, then.” Louis was going to close the pub and never open it again.

“What's that?” Harry asked excitedly, pointing at Louis' hand and sipping his tea.

“Oh, that? Hum, I noticed you liked the succulents the other day and that you have some plants here already, so. Yeah.”

“You brought me flowers, how sweet.” Harry teased and Louis rolled his eyes, giving him the pot.

“They're not flowers. Just don't water it too much or the roots will rot and it will die.”

“Okay, thanks. I really liked it,” he said, and looked around his flat for a place to put them. Louis snuck a loot at his arms. “Do you think it'll be okay if I put it in my room? The windowsill there would be the perfect place for it, but it only gets sunlight in the mornings, though.”

“It's fine, they're tough little guys.”

“Great, be right back.”

Louis could not stop staring at his back while Harry walked away. He pressed the tips of his fingers to his eyes and took a deep breath. Why was he so bothered about all that? Shirtless Harry, his boyfriend. These were things he should not be bothered by, and yet. 

When Harry came back a few minutes later he had a pair of boots on and a white t-shirt. It was flimsy and Louis could see the traces of his tattoos underneath it, but it was still a shirt and Louis was grateful for it. His hair was damp and extra curly. When Harry walked past him, he got a whiff of coconut and vanilla. God, was he screwed.

“Who are we meeting, today?” Harry asked and grabbed his own rucksack off the floor. He checked the contents in it and slung it over his shoulder. Louis walked out the door and waited for Harry to close it.

“His name is Roger Grimsted, and he's a cobbler. He's had his shop in Tottenham for 43 years.”

“Wow, that's exactly the kind of people I'm looking for!” Harry was as excited as a child while they walked to the man's house. “Was he okay with meeting me? Did you tell him about my project?”

“Yeah, he's cool with it. Says he hopes it will bring more people to his shop.”

“Do you think we can get a few pictures of him in his shop?”

“I don't know.”

“Does he live far from there? Do you think he could open it just for us?”

“I don't know if he'll do that.”

“You said he was cool about it, so maybe he-”

“I said I don't know, Harry. Jesus, you're so annoying today.”

Harry looked as if he'd been punched in the face. He opened his mouth to say something to Louis, but closed it and didn't say a word until they reached the cobbler's house. Louis felt like shit. He smiled and greeted Mr. Grimsted politely just the same.

“It's so good to see you, Louis,” the smiling man invited them inside. “Now that it's getting warmer I'll stop by the pub more often.”

“We'd love that, it's great having you there,” Louis walked in and closed the door after them. “This is Harry Styles.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grimsted. Thank you so much for agreeing to see me and welcoming me in your home,” he said in a firm hand shake. Fuck, he was endearing when he wanted to.

“It's my pleasure to be interviewed like this. Tea?”

“Yes, please,” they said in unison and sat down on the old man's couch as Louis made small talk. He could feel Harry's eyes on him but Louis didn't look at him once. He was behaving like a stubborn child and he didn't care. 

“So, you're here to take my picture, huh?” Mr. Grimsted asked Harry when they were almost finished with their tea. 

“Yes, I'm looking for interesting people and you are very interesting, sir.”

“Nonsense. I've got nothing special to tell ya, to be honest.”

“I doubt that. Let's start with the basic, then. Can I record our conversation? It's easier than taking notes. If it's alright with you.”

“I don't mind it.”

“Great, thank you.” Harry set about getting the small recorder out of his backpack and put it on the small coffee table between them. “When were you born, Mr. Grimsted?”

“I was born on April 7, 1952, right here in Tottenham. Of course it wasn't named Tottehnam then, and things were quite different then.”

“When did you open your shop?”

“In 1972, I was twenty years old and had just gotten fired. My wife was pregnant with our first child and we needed money for baby things.”

“Do you remember your first client?”

And this went on for about an hour. Harry asked the man lots of questions, and Louis stayed quiet for most of the time. He played games in his phone, he fixed his hair, he avoided looking at Harry. All he kept thinking about was the Liam guy. The kiss he'd given Harry on his way out. On their plans for later that evening. It all made him angry for reasons he thought best not to investigate. God knows what he would find if he really thought about it.

“I think that's more than enough, Mr. Grimsted. Can I take your picture now?”

“I'm wearing a new shirt just for it,” the old man humored him, “there's a nice blank wall we can use in the kitchen.”

“No, please. I want to take your picture here, like this.”

“But the room is messy.”

“That's exactly why. I'm not saying it's messy,” he was quick to say, “it's just more characteristical of you. It has more personality, you see.”

“Well, suit yourself.”

Louis watched Harry fumble with the camera settings and take several pictures of the old man. He moved around the room, trying different lightings and angles. He took pictures of Mr. Grimsted smiling, with a serious expression, talking and not even looking at the camera at all. Ten minutes later and they were done.

“Again, thank you so much, Mr. Grimsted. I really appreciate you doing this for me.” Harry shook the man's hand for the hundredth time as they walked out.

“Don't mention it. Make my shop famous, Harry.”

“I'll do my best, sir.”

“I hope to see you at the pub some day.”

“Me too, I'll print some of these photos and give them to you.”

“Thank you. Bye Louis. See you tomorrow, if it doesn't rain.”

“Bye, Mr. Grimsted. Enjoy your Sunday.”

Louis waited for them to turn the corner before speaking to Harry again.

“I thought you were going to ask him to take pictures in his shop.”

“I was, but you are clearly pissed at me, didn't want to make this any longer for you.”

Louis hated to admit he was acting like a jerk to Harry, who seemed to be very upset about it. 

“Anyway, thanks for bringing me.” Harry stopped walking and their eyes finally met. “I was going to ask you and Niall to join me and Liam tonight for dinner, but I guess I already know the answer to that.”

“Why would you want us there?” Louis was confused.

“I thought it would be nice if we could all be, I don't know, friends or something.” Harry was purposefully avoiding Louis' gaze now. “But you're doing a fine job at keeping that from happening.”

“All friends? Wait, isn't Liam your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?” Harry snorted. “No, Liam is not my boyfriend. He's my friend from home and he's visiting. He's crashing at my place for the weekend. What gave you that idea?”

“Well, I thought you were showering together before I got there this morning...” Wow, it sounded even stupider when he said it out loud. 

“Liam is my best friend, but as much as I love him, we keep from showering together. We took a nap together on the couch yesterday afternoon, but I think it hardly makes us boyfriends.” 

“Right.” Louis didn't think there was anything he could say that wouldn't make the moment even more awkward. Harry did it for him.

“Hang on, is that why you snapped at me and gave me the cold shoulder all morning? Because you thought Liam was my boyfriend?” Harry's smile was wicked. “Are you jealous because of Liam, Louis Tomlinson?”

“Fuck off, I'm not jealous. I have mood swings and I'm grumpy, as you say it yourself all the time.” Louis started walking again with Harry right at his heels. 

“I'll pretend I believe you. Just so you know, I don't have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, by the way.”

“I never would have thought you had a girlfriend.” It was Louis who snorted this time.

“Excuse me? I've already had a girlfriend. We were fourteen and didn't even kiss, but we wore promise rings and all.”

Louis laughed at that, and finally turned to look at Harry. He caught him smiling and fixing his hair. 

“Do you have a boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson?” 

“No, I don't have a boyfriend, Harry Styles.”

“Good. So we're just two singles guys in our twenties, hanging out. Two very attractive guys, I might add. Cool,” he took a deep breath and crossed has hands behind his back, “very cool.”

“You're such an idiot,” Louis mumbled, but was smiling as he did so. 

“So, wanna join us for dinner then?” Harry asked as they reached his building. 

“I wish I could, but I'm meeting up with my mum.”

“Oh, that's sweet. We'll talk later then.”

“Yeah, I'll text you.”

“How romantic. Bye, Lou.”

Louis was stiff as Harry gave him a surprise hug. It was quick but strong, and then he was off into the building and Louis was humming on his way home again.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis sighed deeply and swallowed dry. It was already 9:30 at night and he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. There were still a few people at the pub and he didn't want to send them home, they were drinking and spending money after all. 

“Long day, huh,” Niall said and stood next to him, leaning on the counter. “You look like you are about to fall asleep right here.”

“Yeah, sleep is good. Sleep is nice.”

Niall chuckled.

“You're out of this world, man. Why don't you go take a nap and I'll wake you up only to close the door after me?”

“Nah, I'm fine,” he yawned. “I just need one more cup of coffee.”

“You've had three, already.”

“Are you keeping a tab on how many cups of coffee I drink?” Louis asked as he poured himself some. It was lukewarm but strong. 

“You keep a tab on how many pints I drink.”

“Because you told me to! You said you wanted to tone it down a bit. I'm just being a good friend.”

Louis' cell phone chimed. He took it out of his pocket and a smile lit his face up when he looked at the screen.

“Is that a message from Harry?” Niall sing songed. 

“What? Yeah, it is. But I'm not smiling about that.”

“Of course not. You hate his guts, I know that.” Niall scoffed, but patted him on the shoulder as he walked past him. 

Louis looked at the screen once again.

_can I send you a cool pic?_

**i'm still at work, so no nudes pls**

_ha ha. you wish._

Louis shook his head. Were they really flirting? Harry was so nice and kind, this could be not flirting at all. Just Harry being Harry. Louis' phone chimed again and he smiled wide when he saw the picture.

“Hey Niall, come see this,” he beckoned and Niall looked over his shoulder.

“Is that Mr. Grimsted's picture that Harry took?”

“Yeah, isn't it nice?”

“Very, he should use that one for his project. Tell him that I said that. And that I do wish for some nudes, if he doesn't mind.”

“I didn't tell you to read the rest of the conversation, you snoop.” Louis slapped Niall's bum, who walked away giggling.

**it looks great, harry.**

_can i show you more and you help me chose which one is teh best?_

**i'm still working, but i'll tell you when i'm off**

_ok, can i come over?_

Louis looked at the screen and didn't know what to say. What did Harry mean by that? Three dots appeared as Harry started typing again.

_wow it took you a long tiem to reply. forget i said that. we'll talk more in the mornig. night, lou :*_

Louis thought about replying, it would be rude if he didn't, but he didn't know what to say. The people that were sitting at the table stood up and he was busy with them and closing the place. By the time he managed to go upstairs and look at his phone it was already almost eleven. He didn't want to risk waking Harry up. He replied the next morning.

**morning harry! wanna come to the pub later to show me the pics?**

He thought it was neutral enough, inviting him to come to the pub and all. It took Harry two full hours to reply and Louis was losing his mind pathetically checking his phone every two minutes. 

_afternoon, lou! sorry i didnt reply earluer, i was working. i'm on my lunch break now, painting makes me hungry_

Louis smiled at the use of the hamburger emoji at the end of the message.

**didn't know you painted, thought it was just photography**

_no, i'm painting as a wall painter. my drawing skills are still in the first grade-stick figures._

**nice! do you think you can come?**

Louis was a little startled when the phone started ringing loudly in his hand with an incoming call from Harry. Okay, he could do that.

“Hello, Harry.”

“Hi, Lou! Is this a bad time? Can you talk?

Louis looked around the pub, empty except for one woman sitting at the furthest table.

“Sure, I can talk.”

“Great,” Harry said, and Louis could hear him chewing “Today's been super busy, I was up at five in the morning, Louis. Freaking five in the morning.”

Louis chuckled. “Sorry to hear that. What are you painting?”

“This gigantic warehouse. I swear it's never going to be finished. We're a team of three and we'll grow old together painting this. By the time we finish I'm going to be old and no grandkids to keep me company. Greg looks nice, but I doubt we could start a family.”

Louis laughed and could hear Harry chucke on the other side of the line.

“You're funny on the phone.”

“I'm always funny.” Harry said, voice muffled by food.

“What are you eating?”

“You don't have to pretend to be interested, Lou.”

“I really am. Tell me.”

“Well, I had some leftover yogurt. I have a lot, you know. So I mixed it up with some olive oil, some chopped spring onions and used it as a dressing for the sandwich. It's a ham and cheese one, with extra cheese but no crust.”

“That was probably the most detailed description of a sandwich that I've heard in my entire life.”

“You asked,” Harry said with a giggle. “I could tell you all about how I pet a stray dog on the way here. I could go on for hours talking about these things.”

“I'm sure you could, but I have some people here that need attention. Are you coming to the pub?”

“I'm not sure. I'll try, but we'll be here a while. Maybe if I'm not too tired I'll stop by. We need to visit more people, too.”

“Sure, someday this week still.”

But they didn't. Harry was too busy with his painting job that they couldn't manage a time to meet, much less talk and photograph more people. They texted occasionally, and Louis would rather die than admit this to anyone else, but he missed Harry. He'd grown used to seeing him a few times a week, even if just for half an hour. He had all these plans, had talked to at least three more people who'd agreed to participate in Harry's project, but no Harry to photograph them. He was too proud to ask him to meet, but to his luck, Harry wasn't.

Louis had just gotten in bed and was plugging his cell to charge when it vibrated in his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief to see it was Harry.

“Hey, Harry.”

“I'm free! I have escaped from the prison called 'it needs one more coat' and I will not be dragged down there ever again!” Harry was practically screaming on the phone, and Louis closed his eyes and laid on his back. 

“All done?”

“Yep. I just got home, we all preferred to put in more hours to finish it tonight rather than working a couple of hours on Sunday morning. It looks great, Lou. And the paycheck was awesome as well, but I don't think I'll take up this kind of job ever again. I can barely lift my arms, they hurt so much.”

“Don't be such a baby.” Louis mocked, but he kind of felt sorry for him. 

“You try moving your arms up and down a million times a day for six days straight. My shoulders are permanently damaged. I salute the people who do this for a living.”

“At least it's over, huh.”

“Yep. Listen, I'm going to shower, grab a bottle of champagne and I'm heading to your garden to celebrate, is that okay?”

Louis looked at the clock. It was 11:15, but he was wide awake and too lonely to say no.

“Don't bother with the champagne, we have plenty of drinks here.”

“No, this one's on me. I feel like spending some of the money that I've made with my sweat and tears.”

“I'll be waiting, then.”

“I'll be there in thirty minutes”

“If you are here in less than thirty, I will give you the best massage you ever had,” he half joked.

“Better hurry up, then!”

Harry hung up and Louis sat up on the bed. He was wearing only his underwear and the rattiest t-shirt he owned and that he'd been wearing for a week straight. That wouldn't do. He put on a pair of sweat pants because he didn't want to look like he was trying too hard, but changed into a clean t-shirt under a grey hoodie and put on some trainers. He fixed his hair a bit and went down to the bar, unlocking the front door and sitting on a stool. 

It took Harry forty-five minutes to get there, and by the time he did Louis had already had a shot of vodka to calm himself.

“I'm home, honey,” Harry announced himself as he entered the room carrying the champagne in one hand and his rucksack in the other. He wore jeans that, for once, didn't look like they were painted on him, and a light purple jumper. His damp hair was frizzy and bouncy. He had a little bit of a stubble, and Louis discovered he quite liked that.

“Hi, Haz.” Louis said without thinking. He walked to Harry and had to resist the urge to kiss that smiling face. Harry was positively beaming. Louis could see a small smudge of paint on Harry's neck. A few specks on his face and hands as well. “It took you more than thirty minutes to get here, so no massage for you.”

“Damn long hair that takes forever to wash,” he said with a half smile. “I'm so happy to be here again. I've missed coming to this place.”

“Didn't you miss my pretty face as well?” Louis said, locking the door of the pub and walking them up the stairs to his flat. 

“Not more than I missed your pretty bum.”

Louis barked a laugh.

“You're a little shit.”

“I meant it as a compliment.” Harry said, and followed him across his flat and up the stairs, tucking the bottle away in his backpack. He groaned every time he had to move his arms up the steps to get to the roof.

“Are you really in pain?” Louis asked, concerned. But Harry seemed to have forgotten all about it while he was looking at the garden around them.

“Took some painkillers before coming, they should kick in soon. Man, this place looks gorgeous at night. It looks like it's shining.”

Harry had a point. It was a full moon after all and even if it wasn't, the lights from the street and the buildings around them were enough to keep the place from absolute darkness.

“I've been meaning to put up a couple of lamp posts, like the ones you see downtown, but they're expensive and the wiring will be a pain.”

“I can help you hook them up, if you want to. I've done some wiring jobs.”

“What haven't you done?” Louis asked as he took the bottle from Harry's backpack and worked on opening it.

Harry thought for a while before answering. “Stripping. It's something I've never done before, but I think it would be super fun.”

“I can see you working a pole, yeah.” Louis said thoughtfully.

“Don't get too carried away in your imagination or I'll ask you to put some money down my pants.”

“Thought you were loaded after this gig. Voila!” He managed to get the champagne open. 

“My rent and utilities will suck up most of it. But at least I can concentrate on the photography project now.”

“True. Let me get down real quick and get some glasses.” Louis said, handing Harry the bottle.

“No need for glasses,” he said and took a big gulp out of the bottle. Louis smiled as he offered it to him and took a swig himself. It was cheap champagne, he knew, but it bubbled and fizzled inside his mouth and stomach deliciously.

“Do you serve champagne at the bar? Harry asked, bottle in his hands as he walked around the garden, getting another mint leaf and chewing on it. Louis watched him move gracefully, with lazy steps.

“Not really.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, coming around and sitting on the bench. Louis sat next to him. 

“It's just not something that my grandpa served, and neither did my dad, so I didn't.”

“You just followed their footsteps, huh?” Harry sipped the champagne and handed it to Louis. The bottle was already half empty.

“I guess so. I do things as they did, that's for sure.”

“Is that why the pub is a little...outdated? Please don't be offended, it's just that if you compare it with other pubs, there are many things that are different. Not in a bad way, of course. What I mean is...” Harry took a shuddering breath and Louis placed his hand on his knee, rubbing it gently before moving it away.

“I know what you mean, and I'm not offended. I know the pub could use some improvement, it's just that...I don't know.”

“What?” Harry insisted, and Louis could see his eyes shining even in the dimly lit garden. He took a deep breath and looked up, avoiding Harry's gaze.

“It's just that my dad didn't need to serve fancy drinks or have a Facebook page to get this place going, you know? People came because they liked him and the cheap beer. And that floor is an absolute pain to clean, but it was how my grandpa liked it so I think it would be insulting to his memory to change it,” Louis rubbed his eyes with his hands and drank two big gulps of champagne. “And finances are terrible, and I think I have a pretty good idea of what I have to do to make it better, I just....don't seem to care enough to do it. It's all stupid, I know.”

Louis took a deep breath and stared at the floor, to where Harry's right foot was touching his. 

“It's not stupid,” Harry said, his voice soothing, and Louis felt his warm hand on his shoulder. He finally turned his gaze to Harry's direction and saw that he was completely serious. “I understand why you don't wanna change. But don't beat yourself up about it, it's a different world with different people, the things that worked for your dad won't work for you. It's not your fault.”

Louis let out a humorless laugh.

“It's funny because Niall says the same thing, that I'm doing my best and I'm just really not. I'm really not doing my best. Which is shit, because this pub is my family legacy and I'm screwing it up.”

“Well, maybe it doesn't have to be a family legacy,” Harry was close and Louis could definitely smell him and feel how his thigh was touching his own. “Did you always want to run this place?”

“I guess so. I always knew I was going to, one day, when my dad died. I just didn't think it would be so soon.”

“No, I'm not talking about knowing you would, I'm talking about wanting to do it.”

Louis had to look away from him. He'd told himself for such a long time that this was what he was meant to be doing, that he almost believed it. He was afraid of what Harry might see if ke kept looking at him like that.

“Shoul I stop talking?” Harry asked, his hand leaving Louis' shoulder and sitting a little further from him. “I know I can be too much sometimes.”

“You're not too much and you shouldn't stop talking. You have a nice voice.”

“is that you or the champagne talking?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“I've only had like...two proper glasses? It's hard to measure in gulps.”

“I know this is going to be my last one,” Harry said and drank just a little “I'm feeling tipsy already.”

“Are you serious? A man your size and you're tipsy from just a little bit of champagne?” Louis asked with an incredulous smile.

“I have a very low alcohol tolerance.” Harry sounded serious, but his face showed his amusement.

“Never go out drinking with Niall, then. You'd be in an alcohol induced coma before his cheeks even turned a little pink.”

“Niall must be a very fun drunk. I like to imagine he dances.”

“Ballet is is favorite to perform,” Louis said and Harry laughed, his dimple showing up and his eyes sparkling. “What do you do when you're drunk, Haz?”

“Make bad decisions, that's why I avoid doing it.” 

The look he gave Louis was so meaningful that he had to stand up and walk around for a bit, hands in his pockets. He turned around just in time to see a leaf fall off the tree and land on Harry's hair. He snorted.

“What?” Harry asked, smiling but suspucious.

“Don't move, there's a bug in your hair.”

“A bug?” Harry's eyes bulged. “What bug? Get it off of me.” He moved his hands frantically but without moving his head. 

“Don't move, it might sting you.” Louis said and carefully walked back to Harry, who was biting his lip nervously.

“Sting? Is it a bee? Is it a wasp? I hate wasps.”

“Be still,” Louis whispered, and caught the brown, dead leaf off his head. “There, saved you.”

Harry looked at the leaf in Louis' hand and back at Louis' face, who couldn't help but burst into laughter.

“You're an idiot, Louis,” he said, grabbing the leaf from Louis' hand and twisting it around his finger. He sounded truly annoyed.

“I'm sorry, but you should have seen your face, it was so funny.” Louis said, sitting down and clutching his stomach.

“If I ever see a bee in your hair, don't expect me to get it off for you.” Harry spat, and Louis felt a little guily. Just a little. 

“Are you allergic?”

“No, but I'd still rather not get stung, it hurts like hell.” Harry said and flicked the leaf at Louis' face.

“I'm sorry, Haz. Won't do it again.” Louis said and ruffled Harry's hair. It was cold and still a little damp.

“Now I'll never believe you when there's an actual bug in my hair,” he mumbled, but he didn't sound too annoyed anymore.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, feeling the cold wind blowing softly. Harry watched as more leaves fell, gathering around the bench they were sitting. The folliage of the tree was still beautiful, but some of its branches were almost bare.

“It's a little sad, isn't it? To watch the season change so closely like you do.” Harry mused.

“You mean when fall comes? When it gets snowy?”

“Yeah, it looks so beautiful and then you have to watch it all die.”

“But then I watch it all grow again. Spring is almost here and everything will look even more beautiful than before. The fallen leaves served their purpose.”

“And what's that?” Harry asked, turning his attention back to Louis' eyes and putting his hands in his pockets. 

“To feed the roots of the tree. It's all very poetic, when you think about it.”

“How come?”Harry asked, and much to Louis surprise, Harry turned his body sideways on the bench, letting his feet touch the floor beside the bench and laid his head on Louis' lap. He stared up at him with big eyes, just waiting for Louis' reply. 

“Hum. Think of the tree as your life, the people you know.” Louis was very much aware of his hands by his sides, and risked resting one in Harry's hair sprawled on his thigh. “All the leaves are the people you know, people who are part of your life. You have the very first ones that pop, those can be your parents, always there from the beginning,” he started running his fingers on Harry's scalp.

“That's nice,” he sighed contented, his eyes fluttering close for just a brief second before focusing on Louis' again. 

It took Louis a moment to continue, too caught up in Harry's features. The dimly lit roof made them softer, and he looked beautiful. 

“Then you have the leaves that appear just as you do, which are your classmates, cousins, siblings, neighborhood kids. You grow with them, flourish in their company. They may stay and they may go. It depends on the winter, how hard things are. Your close friends are the ones that never fall, never leave your side.”

“Like Niall, for you.” Harry said with a smile. “And Liam, for me.”

“Yeah, like Niall for me. He's been with me through many winters.”

“And what is the purpose of the falling leaves in this case?”

“They are extremely important, you see. You meet quite a number of leaves in your life. When they fall, they nourish the ground with memories, happy memories of the times you spent together. They feed your tree with what you need to keep growing.”

Harry closed his eyes and said nothing for a while. Louis kept running his fingers through his hair. 

“Are you getting sleepy?” He asked, tenderly.

“No, I'm just thinking. What you said was very nice, and I'm thinking about the tree of my life right now.”

“I imagine you have quite a lot of branches with quite a lot of leaves.”

“Not many that have stayed, though.”

“You can always meet more.” Louis said and Harry smiled and opened his eyes.

“That's right. Light green, new leaves.”

Louis hummed in response and Harry sat back up.

“Thanks for telling me this,” he said softly, and his look was deep and relaxed.

“Thanks for listening.”

Harry smiled in response and looked up.

“For some silly reason I thought I'd be able to see more stars from here.”

“Well, you are sitting under the canopy of the tree, so...” Louis teased, the moment losing some of its depth.

“Even when I'm not,” Harry added, “I get the feeling that I'm some place else and that all this light pollution will magically disappear and I'll be able to photograph the stars in a long exposure shot and capture their movement. Or the Earth's movement. Anyway, I was kind of hoping for that. Can I still take some pictures while I'm up here? The city lights look so gorgeous and it's difficult to get a good angle from the ground.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Harry stood up and Louis watched him in a new light. He was impressed at how quickly Harry set up a tripod he'd gotten from his rucksack right on the edge of the roof, maybe too close for comfort.

“If you drop your camera I'll laugh.” Louis warned him, but Harry waved him off.

“Can't take a proper picture if not here. Maybe I could climb the tree and take pictures from up there...” he said, looking like he was actually considering it.

“No way, if you break your camera is one thing, but it's dark and you might fall and break your neck. Nu-huh.”

“Fine, mom.” Harry mocked and went back to adjusting his camera settings and walked back to where Louis was sitting. “It's a long exposure one, it's gonna take a while,” he explained and took the bottle from Louis' hand.

“I thought you were done for the night.”

“Me too, but I was thinking to myself how bad of a decision could I make when it's just the two of us here.”

Harry looked at him so intensely that Louis felt his face hot. He was better than that, he knew. Still, he couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. Harry sat next to him and took a sip.

“So, what would you be doing with your life if you weren't running the pub?” 

“This, probably,” and he gestured around them. “This is probably what makes me happiest, but what money is there in gardening?”

Harry nodded. “I think there's a lot of money in ladnscaping. How much money is there in running the pub?” He shot back.

“Touché. It'd be a miracle if I managed to keep it open until the end of the year.”

“Is it that bad?” Harry sounded and looked concerned.

“We don't get any new customers coming, and the old ones just don't spend enough.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” and he actually sounded sorry. He got up and went to his camera, taking more and more photos. “It sucks when doing what you like doesn't get you anywhere. Financially, I mean.”

“Tell me about it. I should have married rich.”

Harry chuckled. He looked back to see Louis smiling at him. God, he looked absolutely beautiful.

“There's still time, you know. You might have a few more years of good hair.” Harry raised his brows and Louis giggled.

“I'll have plenty more years of good hair, thank you very much.”

“Sure you will.” Harry mocked and turned his attention back to his camera. Louis tried not to stare at his butt when he bent down to change the height of the tripod. “I know I'm imposing, but could I come back and take some more pictures of the garden when it's day?”

“If you want, we can visit a new person for your project tomorrow and then come back here. My cell says it's gonna be sunny and dry.”

“That would be awesome, thanks.” Harry turned his camera off and started to fold back his tripod. “So I'll get going, I've taken too much of your free time tonight.”

Louis looked at his cell. “It's barely one, you can stay longer if you want.” God, why was he being so desperate? He needed to act cool or Harry would tease him mercilessly. 

“Nah, we'll have plenty of time tomorrow. Thanks for celebrating with me.” Harry said, adjusting his rucksack on his shoulders.

“Some celebration it was, drinking half a bottle of champagne and listening to me ramble.”

“You weren't rambling.”

“Whining.”

“We were _talking_ ,” he handed the bottle to Louis. “Here, you can drink the rest of it.”

Which Louis did, later that night, after Harry had already left and he couldn't sleep. It was warm and not so fizzy anymore, but it served its purpose, which was to relax his brain to the point where he would stop imagining what it would be like to kiss Harry and go to sleep already. It barely worked.


	6. Chapter 6

It was more than two months later when they were finally at the end of the list of people Harry was going to photograph. They were walking back to the pub after interviewing the last person on their list, the 26-year-old tattoo artist that had opened her shop in Tottenham less than a year ago but who had incredible stories to tell.

“You know what you should do?” Louis asked Harry as they conered the pub. “You should go beyond this photography project and write a book about these people or something.”

“A book? I couldn't write a book,” Harry replied, adjusting his sunglasses on his face. Louis hated them, hated anything that covered Harry's eyes, especially when they looked so brightly green in the sun. 

“Why not? You're the one who's always telling me I can do anything I want.”

“I say that because I know you have other talents.”

“You have talents.” Louis wiggled his brows and Harry giggled.

“That's true. I knit.”

“Bullshit, you don't knit. I, on the hand, actually crochet.” Louis said with a proud smile.

“Are you for real?” 

“I spent a lot of time with my grandma when I was growing up.”

“Will you make me a beanie?”

“Summer's right around the corner and you want a beanie? Doesn't all that hair make your head warm enough?” Louis asked and quickly ran his fingers through Harry's hair. The wind was going to town at it and he desperately needed a comb.

“I think I'm going to cut it. It's getting pretty long.” Harry said, rolling the tips of his curls around his fingers.

“No!” Louis blurted out before he could stop himself. He saw the half smile that Harry tried to hide. “I mean, it's your hair. You can cut it if you want to. You can shave your head for all I care.”

“I'll think about it for a little longer.” Harry said and followed Louis inside the pub. Louis should try to do a better job of hiding how much he liked Harry's hair. 

They were greeted by a cheerful Niall. 

“Hi lads, how did it go with Angie?

“Perfect, she's very photogenic.” Harry said and plopped down on a stool. It was still 11:15 and the pub was completely empty. It was slow for a Saturday.

“I think it's the purple hair,” Niall said, “was thinking about trying that color meself.”

“You should stick to blonde, mate.” Louis said as he grabbed him and Harry a couple of water bottles.

“Why not let it grow to its natural color? You'd look great with darker hair, Nialler.” Harry said as he ruffled Niall's hair. 

“Harry is thinking about cutting his hair, you know,” Louis informed him.

Niall looked at Harry incredulously.

“Don't do that. That would be cutting off half of Louis' wanking material. Chop off your legs and this boy will be dry as a desert.”

The sound of Harry's laughter was so loud that it muffled Louis aggrevated hiss.

“What the fuck, Niall? Shut up!”

Harry was still laughing, arms on the counter and his face hiding in between them. When he looked up his face was red and there was an actual tear running down his face.

“It was a stupid joke, I don't wank thinking about you.” Louis was as red as a pepper, and if looks could kill Niall would have been dead already. 

“Sorry for laughing, it was the way Niall said it that--” and he burst into giggles again, Niall following him and Louis had had enough. 

He went to the kitchen, humiliated. He paced back and forth, trying to walk his embarrassment off. He could still hear them laughing and refused to go back. 

“Hey, Lou. I have to get going,” Harry shouted through the closed door. “Thanks for coming with me, have a great day. Hope you _enjoy_ yourself tonight.”

The innuendo in Harry's tone did not go unnoticed and Louis groaned, frustrated, leaning against the sink. 

“Hey, mate,” he heard Niall coming in the kitchen, “sorry about that. Are you really mad?”

Louis turned to him and Niall looked anxious.

“You know why I'm so embarrassed and pissed off?”

“Because what I said is true?” Niall tried with a tentative smile.

“Yep.” Louis slowly sank to the floor. Niall sat next to him, crossing his ankles.

“You should do something about it, mate. You're going to make yourself crazy like that.”

“Should do what about it?” 

“Ask him on a date. I'm sure he'd love that.”

Louis snorted.

“He would either think I was joking or the tension between us would be unbearable.”

“Lou, you've been flirting back and forth for months now.”

“Exactly! And nothing's happened. Besides, he's a big joker and I don't think he means half of what he says.”

“You're joking, right? He's always touching you, always near you.”

“He's always touching you as well. Harry's a very...touchy kind of person.”

“Louis, I'm your friend and I mean it in the nicest possible way” Niall said softy, but then he practically screamed in Louis' ear. “Wake up and smell the coffee! Jesus, the sexual tension between the two of you is just so... it's painful to watch, honestly.”

Louis sighed. Niall had a point. But it had been like that for months. Ever since that night they took pictures on the roof garden, they'd grown particularly close. 

They'd hung out in that garden more times than Louis could count. Harry was fascinated by the blooming flowers and would spend hours photographing every aspect of the place. Louis would never admit to that, but he'd been lurking in Harry's instagram and felt helplessly proud when Harry posted a picture of the bench under the tree with the caption “my favorite place to be”. Louis couldn't agree with him more. 

Harry was at the pub almost every night, except when he had some work with night shifts, and Louis was never in a bad mood when he was around. They'd talk and laugh. Harry always indulged Niall when he was doing his impressions, the same way Niall indulged him in his knock-knock jokes. They were terrible and Louis laughed at every single one of them. 

Many days they went up to the garden after Louis locked up to eat something. Sometimes Niall joined them, sometimes not. Louis appreciated both ways, but felt his stomach flutter a little more when it was only him and Harry. 

Not that they acted differently when they were alone than when they were with company. Harry was unashamed of gentle touching, always with a hand on Louis' arm or leg, sometimes pulling Louis' hair off of his face. Neither Niall nor Liam said anything about it (Harry had shyly asked Louis if he could bring Liam to see the garden when he was next in town). Now that Louis knew that there was nothing romantic going on between Harry and Liam, he thought he was quite the nice lad. 

There were Fifa games in Louis' place and table tennis at Harry's. There was walking around the neighborhood to talk and photograph the people Louis pointed out. There were tennis matches watched at Niall's. There were tube trips to central London on Sunday afternoons to visit any artistic space in the hopes of getting Harry's pictures part of an exhibition. 

There were weekly footie matches, in which Harry played terribly, but Louis looked forward to them every week. There were nocturnal drinking sessions in the roof garden. There were visits to touristic spots with a few rare selfies. There was one specific stance of a shirtless and wet Harry that made Louis unable to sleep at night.

“I'll see what I can do about it, okay?” Louis said with a sad smile and patted Niall's knee before standing up.  
“You better kiss him before I do.” Niall joked and followed Louis back into the pub. Still no customers.

“Don't you dare.” Louis faked anger.

“I had a wet dream about him once, ya know,” Niall continued, “couldn't look him in the eyes for days afterwards, though.”

“Who don't you have wet dreams about?” Louis shook his head.

“I wish I could say you.”

“Eww,” was Louis' only reply before laughing along with Niall.

Louis really had to do something about his situation with Harry. Of course he didn't.

~~x~~ 

It was a half past three on a Wednesday afternoon, not two weeks afterwards, that Harry burst into the pub, his face flushed and sweaty, and his wide eyes almost jumping out of their sockets. Niall and Louis exchanged a worried look. 

“Lou! Niall!”, he shouted, startling a man who was sitting by the bar.

“What's wrong, Haz?” Louis tried to sound calm, but failed.

“I'm terribly sorry, sir,” Harry was saying to the man, and he took a deep breath before turning his attention back to Niall and Louis, who had walked around the counter and were standing directly in front of him. “Oh boy, I came running and I need a moment,” he said, bending and putting his hands on his knees, head hanging between his arms. 

“What happened?” Niall couldn't keep the worry away from his voice either.

Louis stood next to Harry and put his hand around his waist. Harry looked up at him with a smile.

“You're not gonna believe this,” he said, grinning brightly.

“What is it?”

“There's a place downtown that is going to show my pictures at the end of the month!”

“What!?” Both Louis and Niall said in unison. 

“Yeah! You know the place we never even tried to ask because we knew they would never even consider the idea? The posh place downtown, next to the diner that looks like it came straight out of Sherlock?”

“No way!” Louis' grin matched Harry's now. “Are you serious? Because if this is a prank, it's a mean one.”

“I'm serious!” Harry said and started to run his hands through his hair. “Even I couldn't believe it at first. You know I always carry the proofs with me, and I was just walking by it when I thought 'hey, what have I got to lose?' so I walked in and talked with some people. Long story short, they loved my idea even before I showed the pictures. When they saw it, we shook hands and it was a deal.”

“That's amazing, Haz” Louis said and he was so proud of Harry, so so proud. Before he could congratulate him, Niall beat him to it. He crushed Harry in a hug and gave him a loud kiss on both of his cheeks. Harry laughed and kissed Niall back. 

When Niall let go of him, his eyes turned to Louis, who hugged him just as tight. Harry's neck was damp as Louis nuzzled him. He felt the muscles on Harry's back shift under his hands as he held him close. 

“I'm so proud of you,” he said in Harry's ear.

“Thanks. Thank you for helping me.” 

He let Louis go but kept him at arm's length. Louis watched as Harry's eyes went to his mouth, and for a wild second he was sure Harry was going to kiss him, right where they were standing. His thoughts must have shown on his face because Harry looked down, biting his lips.

“It's the adrenaline, sorry,” he mumbled before letting Louis go. Louis had no time to say anything as Harry's phone rang loudly in his pocket. “It's Liam, I called him on the way here to tell him the news and he didn't pick up.”

Harry answered the phone and walked to a corner, a huge smile on his face.

“That's great news, huh.” Niall said and he looked even happier than usual. Louis nodded.

“Harry deserves it.”

He wanted to tell Niall about the almost kiss. But Niall saw that as well and chose not to talk about it. Either way, Louis was shaken by it. He watched as Harry paced around, talking loudly on the phone. Harry looked up and caught Louis staring. He smiled wide and gave him a thumbs up. Louis did the same and tried not to think too much about the moment they'd shared. He knew it was going to ruin him if he thought about it too much. 

Harry hung up and came back to him.

“I need to go back to the gallery, they want to look at everything I want to showcase,” he sounded as excited as a puppy, and Louis couldn't blame him for it. “Need to go to my place to gather everything up.”

“I'm sure they'll love everything.”

“I hope so. I'd hate to leave a single story and photo out.” Harry said, taking a napkin from the counter and quickly scribbling on it. He walked to the far corner where the suggestion box was and slid it there. “I'll call you later to talk details.”

“Sure. Bye, Harry. Congratulations again.”

“Bye, Lou,” he smiled widely at him, his dimple showing, “thanks. Bye Nialler!” He half shouted and Niall shouted bye back. 

Louis watched as he left with his stomach up his throat.

This feeling didn't leave him all the month leading up to the “premiere”, as he liked to call it. It was a night set up only for influential people in the art business to look at the photographs, still not open to the public. It was apparently going to be a very chic cocktail party and he'd teased Harry about it endlessly. 

But now that the big night had come, jokes were the last thing in Louis' mind.

“How do I look?” He shyly asked Niall, emerging from the pub's kitchen after two whole minutes of careful consideration. It wasn't like there was a back door to escape from anyway. Niall turned to him and his whole expression changed.

“Mate! Look at you, Louis. All dressed up!”

Louis was wearing a pair of skinny black jeans – not as skinny as those Harry wore, but still very flattering to his figure. He had on black shiny shoes and a blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He'd put considerable effort into his hair. He'd called his sister for help, and he only had to re-wash his hair in the sink two times in failed attempts of too much product. 

“Is it...too much?” He asked, unsure. “Too little? Should I put a coat over the shirt? A tie?”

“It's fine, mate. You're wearing a dress shirt and shoes, formal but casual. It's hardly an award winning night, you'll be fine. You look great.”

“Thanks.” Louis smiled with his lips closed. “I better get going, don't wanna be late.”

“I thought it only started at seven-thirty.”

“Yeah, but Harry wants me there at six thirty, said he wanted to show me something before the other people started to arrive.”

“Before you go, we need to take a selfie!” Niall said and quickly grabbed his phone. Louis rolled his eyes but obliged, standing next to him and allowing him to take a picture.

Niall turned the phone to see and scolded him. “Don't cross your eyes! It's no time for funny faces! You're clean shaven and your hair doesn't look like you just got out of bed. Just smile, okay?”

“Fine,” Louis reluctantly agreed, but he asked Niall to send him the picture nonetheless. “Now I have to go, I don't wanna be late.” He said, quickly returning to the kitchen to grab a carefully wrapped box. 

“Thanks for handling the place alone on a Saturday night, I really appreciate it,” he said before walking around the counter and towards the door.

“Have fun, Lou!” Niall said and Louis waved him back.

The station wasn't far from the pub, and he only had to walk a few blocks before catching the tube. He fumbled with his phone for the whole ride, constantly checking the time. It was 6:32 when he arrived at the art gallery to find its doors closed. He stood there, not knowing exactly what to do, so he did the next logical thing and knocked. 

The door opened up a few seconds later when a dark-haired woman in a smart red dress looked him up and down before saying “We're still closed.”

“I'm here to see Harry. Harry Styles, the photographer whose pictures are being shown tonight.”

“And you are...?”

“Louis Tomlinson.”

“Oh, right!” The name seemed to ring a bell. “Right this way, Mr. Tomlinson.”

Louis followed her the few steps until the reception desk.

“Your friend has managed quite an impressive feat. It's very rare we allow first timers to showcase such a big project in our building,” she said as she checked his name on a list of guests. 

“Well, he's very talented.” Louis couldn't hide the pride from his voice.

“Let me take this,” she said and took the present in Louis' hands. “He'll receive gifts later.”

“But I wanted to give it to him person--”

“His pictures are in the right hall, that way,” she pointed in the direction of a wide doorway to Louis' right. “Mr. Styles is already in there.”

Louis took a deep breath, dried his sweaty hands on his jeans, and started walking.

His jaw dropped when he saw the place. He'd never entered that specific art gallery, but he knew, comparing to the other ones he'd visited, that it was in a whole other level of greatness.

The polished dark hardwood floor was so shiny it sparkled. The walls in the double-height ceiling were white, perfectly neutral background for the art to be shown. High windows, close to the ceiling, were framed by dark wood. In the center of the ceiling hung a crystal chandelier, the most magnificent one Louis had ever seen. 

Along the walls, at eye-level, hung the pictures Harry had taken. All as big as paintings, but no frame around them to make sure they stood out on their own. Bright spotlights illuminated them. Under the pictures there were plaques with papers Louis couldn't read from a distance. Across the room there was a bar, fully stocked with all kinds of drinks. And, talking to the bartender, was Harry.

“Haz...” Louis whispered without realizing.

Harry was simply breath taking. Dressed in skin-tight black jeans and a white silk shirt, he was a vision. The sleeves went down his elbows and the first three buttons were undone, revealing a glimpse of the bird tattoos he had on his chest, and the front of it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Louis smiled when he saw the golden boots he wore. They were so _Harry_ that he couldn't help but smile.

Harry had also apparently spent some time on his hair as well, given that the curls were more defined than usual and with a lot more volume. He looked absolutely gorgeous.

Harry only saw him when he was halfway across the room, and the happiness in his smile when he saw Louis made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Lou!” He exclaimed, and enveloped him in a tight hug. Louis melted into it, letting Harry support his weight as he gripped him tight. “I'm so happy you're here,” he murmured in Louis ear. Harry must have felt Louis' whole body shuddering at the hot breath of air against his neck. 

“Look at you, Harold,” he held him at arm's length, not bothering to hide his shameless staring as he looked at him up and down. “You look amazing.”

“You really think so? I was afraid the boots were a little too much,” he said, and he sounded shy all of a sudden.

“They're perfect. The only problem is that they make you even taller than you already are. It's unfair to me, really.”

Harry grinned at him and Louis hugged him again.

“I think I've said it a million times this past month, but I really am very proud of you.”

“I can hear it a million times more. You smell nice.”

“After shave,” Louis ran his fingers across his face. “You smell nice, too.”

“Deep conditioning mask,” Harry answered with a flick of his hair. Louis laughed and squeezed his arm. “You look very handsome, Lou. I particularly like your hair.”

“Thanks, it only took me one hour to make this stupid quiff.” Harry laughed at that. “Come on, show me around.” Louis asked, and Harry locked their arms together with a flare before walking Louis to a close picture. It was of the bus driver whose route passed right in front of the pub.

The man was posing in front of the bus, in his uniform, with his hands on his waist and a huge smile on his face. Louis remembered that day, they talked to him while riding the bus as he couldn't just stop driving to talk to them. Harry had tried to take his picture while he drove, but only ended up falling on Louis' lap when the bus started moving again. It had been a good day.

Written on the paper on the plaque was

_George Wellington – 02/08/1977_

_Born in Greenwich, George has been driving the same route in Tottenham since he started working as a bus driver in 1997, his second job at the time. Known for memorizing the names and stops of the locals, he is also famous for his constant good mood and witty jokes. George has a wife and two children, both of whom want to follow in his footsteps: William as a train conductor and Sophia as an airplane pilot. At the end of the day, George likes to enjoy the company of his friends at the pub William's._

“This is so great, Harry. Everybody is going to love this,” he glanced at Harry, who was looking at his anxiously.

“What?”

“I want to show you something else. I don't want you to be mad, okay?” 

“Okay...” Louis agreed and let himself be led to a far corner of the room, where the last picture hung. His eyes widened when he saw the picture in front of him.

“This doesn't have to be shown in the gallery, okay? We can take it down right now, if you want to. I've already talked to the staff and they're on stand by to get this down in a matter of minutes if you don't approve of it.”

Louis could barely hear what Harry was saying. Instead, he stared at the picture. _His_ picture. 

“When did you take this?” He asked, still not looking at Harry.

“It was that first picture I took of you, remember? You were laughing, and I took it and you got mad at me.”

Louis remembered now. In the picture, he was at the bar area of the pub, looking up and laughing. His eyes were crinkled, his fringe was messy, the collar of the jean jacket he was wearing was wrinkled and he needed a shave, but it was a beautiful picture. He had to admit it was quite amazing, actually. The warm lighting, the angle, how the focus was only on him and how the bottles behind him were blurred. 

He gazed down at the plaque and read:

_Louis W. Tomlinson – 24/12/1991_

_Born in the heart of Tottenham and a true football fan, Louis is the current owner of the pub William's, which he inherited from his father at the age of 21. Louis spends his days working and tending to his passion: gardening. Proud owner of a roof top garden, Louis has managed to bring all the people in this project together by his joyful and endearing personality._

Louis read it a second time. He looked back at the picture and read the plaque a third time.

“Lou? Are you mad?” Harry was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “Lou? Say something, please.”

“That's...” he searched for the right words to use, “That's my best picture so far,” he finally said. 

Harry grinned so wide his dimple appeared.

“You really like it?” He looked immensely relieved.

“I do, yeah.”

“Can I keep it up, then?” Harry's eyes were full of hope and he was pulling nervously at his hair. 

“Sure,” Louis smiled just as wide and Harry pulled him in for another hug. The third of the night. It was going well. 

“Oh, before I forget! You have to sign some papers to make it official and everything.” Harry said when they pulled apart.

“I'll take care of it later. How are you feeling?”

“Anxious as hell. I've already peeled the skin around all my nails and I'm nervous sweating.”

“This place is going to be full of people you know in less than an hour. You'll feel calmer then.”

The special guests of the night's event were all the seventeen people photographed for the project.

“I'm already feeling better thanks to you.” Harry said and Louis looked down, embarrassed.

“I've got you a present, but the host snatched it from me before I could do anything about it.”

“A present? What present?” Harry's eyes lit up.

“You'll see at the end of the night, I think.”

“You'll stay with me, right? You'll stay until it's time to close up?” The glint in Harry's eyes was truly endearing.

“You know, I think there's a golf special playing on TV, I was going to watch that tonight, but I guess I'll stay, then.” Louis joked with a half smile. 

“Thanks, I don't know what I'd do here on my own.”

“You're a social butterfly, you'll do great.” Louis patted him on the shoulder and Harry looked at him fondly.

“Let's get you a drink,” he said, and ushered them back to the bar.

Less than an hour later, the guest started to arrive and Louis had a pleasant buzz in his head. The place was overflowing with beautifully clad people, and there was even a newspaper photographer to record the evening's events. 

He didn't stay by Harry's side the whole time. Instead, he mingled with the people he knew, chatted with their families, nibbled on delicious appetizers and had, overall, a very good time. He'd watched Harry the whole night, though, sneaking glances and smiles when their eyes met.

He saw Harry chat with people who were, he assumed, in the artistic circle of the city. He saw Harry pocket a lot of business cards and swap contact information. Whenever they bumped into each other, Harry would tell him how great things were going, and Louis seemed to not be able to not congratulate him every single time. 

It was almost midnight when the people started to leave.

“How did you like your special night? Louis asked Harry as they stood next to the bar, finishing up their drinks. 

“It was incredible, really,” Harry said excitedly, “I've met so many great people, so many _important_ people in the business. 

“London today, the rest of the world tomorrow.” Louis said and nodded politely as yet another person came to say goodbye and congratulate Harry. 

Only when the last person left, Hary was taken by the host to gather his gifts. There were quite a few of them.

“Is this a thing? To receive presents from strangers like that?” Harry asked as Louis and him sorted through them. There were numerous bouquets of flowers as well. It was like a theatre premiere and Harry the main actor. 

“I don't know, but I can't seem to find mine. It shouldn't have been kept in a box that long.”

“What color is the packaging?”

“Golden,” Louis said with a smile. “Surprisingly smiliar to your boots.”

“Is it this one?” Harry asked, lifting up a small box.

“Yes! It's not much, don't expect anything of it.”

Harry didn't even listen to him, tearing up the wrapping paper and retrieving the small pot from the cardboard box.

“For your weird tea.” Louis explained, satisfied with the delighted expression on Harry's face. It was a small rainbow-colored rose bush. There were three rosebuds, one of them half-way open. 

“Lou, these look awesome!” Harry exclaimed, softly touching the petals with the tip of his fingers. 

“I thought a bouquet of roses was too...I don't know, cheesy. I was clearly wrong.” Louis gestured around them, at the flowers for Harry. 

“I loved it,” he said, and cradled the clay pot to his chest. “Should I water it now?”

“It can wait for you to get home, I think.”

“Speaking of which, I'm dead tired. Shall we go?”

Louis waited patiently as Harry said goodbye and shook hands with everybody in the staff. The art exhibit would be open to the public the next day, and he promised to stop by. The only gift he decided to take home with him that night was Louis'.

When they stepped out of the building, a little over twelve thirty, the cold wind caught them not so much by surprise. It was an English spring after all. Louis' arms were immediately covered in goose bumps.

“Wish I'd brought a coat to give to you,” Harry mumbled as he rubbed one hand up and down Louis' arm to warm him up.

“It's okay, the tube is near. How are you not cold? Your shirt is silk, for God's sake.” 

“I guess I just don't feel cold easily.” Harry said, and they stood silently. This particular stretch of the street was completely deserted except for the two of them. They should have started walking, but neither of them did.

“Thanks for being here with me tonight,” Harry was the first to break the silence. “And thanks for letting me use your picture as well.”

“You're welcome. I quite liked that picture. The people from the pub complimented me for it, as well. None of the other people seemed to recognize me, though.”

“Well, you look very different from the picture than you do now.”

“Wow, thanks.” Louis said sarcastically. “That was really great for my self-esteem, thank you very--”

Next thing he knew, Harry's lips were on his, their chests flushed together. Heat started to seep from Louis' spine to the rest of his body in lightning-like strikes. Louis wasn't the least bit ashamed for the sound that escaped him as he put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and pulled him closer, standing on the tips of his toes. 

Harry tasted of wine and mint gum and, even though his lips were cold, they were also soft and deliciously wet. He felt Harry breathing hotly against his cheek as he turned his face to kiss him properly, slowly moving his lips against Harry's. With a gasp, he felt one of Harry's hands, the one not holding his present, rest on his bum with a light squeeze.

“What I meant to say,” Harry said in a drawl, his lips moving against Louis neck, “was that you look even more handsome tonight, a different kind of handsome. But I actually prefer your rugged self. 

Louis cupped Harry's chin and pulled his face back up, sealing their lips together again impatiently. He'd waited too long for this to stop for a chat. It was with a quick lick to Harry's bottom lip that he earned himself a low moan and a tongue-filled kiss. Harry's mouth was smooth and hot, hot enough to make Louis lose his breath. 

“Get a room, you two!” A group of teenagers shouted at them from the open window of a passing car, speeding and laughing wildly. 

They pulled apart, both giggling and with flushed cheeks. Harry put his arms on Louis' shoulders and smirked at him. 

“Take me home, Louis Tomlinson.”

He didn't have to ask twice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is pure smut, so you can skip it if it's not your cup of tea.
> 
> My beautiful friend Jaqueline made Harry's Sex Playlist. You can listen to it here:  
> https://play.spotify.com/user/jaques_sco/playlist/16YCA3JcmAs9MShHHNjQuD  
> Warning: The song Gimme Love - The Vines starts with a really loud scream. Watch your ears!

“You have got to be kidding me,” Louis huffed, jiggling the key in the keyhole. Harry was standing so close behind him he felt his breath on his neck. A hot puff of air hit him when Harry chuckled.

“We can come to my place if you can't open the door.”

They had both made an executive decision that it woud be best to head back to Louis' flat, it being the closest to the station. But Louis had left the keys with Niall to lock up and kept the spare one to himself. And now it just wouldn't open. Harry's hand on his lower back was also terribly distracting. 

“We'll break a window if we have to”, Louis said, his whole face contorted as he tried his hard to turn the goddamn key. 

“Want me to try it?” Harry offered.

“There's a secret to it, you have to-- got it!” He said triumphantly, swinging the door open and pulling Harry inside. He was not going to ruin this opportunity over a stupid door.

“My hero,” Harry joked and pulled him for a kiss, cornering him against the wall. Louis was quick to tangle his fingers in Harry's hair and pull it slightly. 

“I like it when you do that,” Harry whispered in the kiss. 

“I like doing it, too. You have beautiful hair.”

Harry chuckled and pulled away. “Let's go upstairs.”

Louis led the way, unlocking and opening doors for them. When he turned on the lights to his place, he grabbed Harry's hand and they walked to his bedroom. Louis turned on the lights because he wanted to see Harry while they did whatever they were about to do. Louis was happy to just kiss him. 

“Nice bedroom,” Harry pointed out, looking around him. 

“What are you talking about? You've been here before.” Louis said as he closed the curtains and removed a small pile of clothes from the foot of the bed, pulling the duvet and revealing navy-blue sheets. He toed off his shoes and removed his socks, throwing them around randomly.

“No, never. We've always stuck to living-room and kitchen area.”

“Well that's just stupid of us, then,” Louis said, stepping closer to Harry. “Come here,” he whispered, and Harry smiled fondly before circling Louis' waist and bringing him closer. 

Louis kissed Harry slowly, taking his time to enjoy the feeling of finally having Harry close like that. He could barely believe they were actually kissing, that he was actually _touching_ the man he'd been pining on for months. And that he seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. 

He ran his hands on Harry's back, drawing lazy circles on his shoulders, feeling the silky touch under his fingers. He felt hands sneaking under his shirt, next to his stomach.

“Wanna take this off?” Harry mumbled. Louis nodded and they both started undoing the buttons of Louis' shirt. Harry's hands were warm on his chest, and his gaze was intense as he studied Louis' torso. 

“You're gorgeous,” Harry mumbled, more to himself than to Louis.

“Off with yours, too,” Louis tugged at Harry's shirt, who smiled warmly at him and kissed him again, before working on the buttons of his own white shirt. It slid off his shoulders and pooled around his feet.

“God, your body...” Louis kissed his bottom lip as he let his hands roam free on Harry's chest and arms. “How do you even have arms like that?” He squeezed them tighly and groaned. “I just wanna lick and bite you all over.

Harry chuckled. “What's stopping you? Certainly not me.”

“Cheeky”, Louis teased and led Harry backwards to the bed. When he sat down Louis was quick to remove Harry's boots and socks, leaving him only in his jeans. He lightly ran his fingers on the soles of Harry's feet and the man giggled, pulling his feet up.

“Stop that, this is supposed to be sexy,” he said, still giggling as Louis tried to tickle him again. 

“Your laugh is sexy,” he replied, laying Harry down on the center of the bed and hovering over him. “Your smile is sexy,” he dropped a kiss on Harry's nose, “your dimple is sexy,” he kissed Harry full on the lips. 

“You're sexy all over,” was Harry's reply as he slid his hands down Louis' back and cupped his ass with both hands, pulling his hips down to meet his own. Louis hissed. Harry was just as hard as he was. 

“You have a thing for my bum, don't you?” He asked as he kissed Harry's neck, inhaling deeply before sucking a bruise on his jaw, right next to his ear. 

“It's a very nice bum,” Harry said with a smile in his voice, and squeezed harder, making Louis squirm and grind down harder. 

Louis moved down Harry's torso with gentle, butterfly kisses. He drew the outline of the birds on his chest with his lips. Harry's skin was burning hot, smooth and smelled of fabric softener. He took his time on his pecks and stopped as he nudged a small bud. He examined closer.

“Is that...is that a nipple?” He looked up and Harry was biting his lips trying very hard not to laugh. “Do you have three nipples?”

Harry turned very serious. “Of course not. It would be weird if I had three nipples.” He paused for a second. “I have four.”

The bed shook as they both burst out laughing, Louis resting his forehead on Harry's chest and feeling his stomach rise as he laughed freely. It was a beautiful sound. 

“Are you serious? Where is the other one?” Louis asked, still giggling, his eyes scanning all over Harry's stomach. “This, here?” He asked, touching lower on his stomach.

“Yeah, they're not fully developed. They're just....there.” 

“Well, I think it's cute,” Louis said as he kissed the two extra buds, “are they sensitive?”

“Not particularly, no.” Harry replied and pulled Louis up for a deep kiss. “You're being very cool about this.”

“Well, you have to have _some_ imperfection,” he said with a smile, their faces so close he could see the beautiful green pattern in Harry's irises. 

“I have plenty of imperfections.”

“I guess I'll have to examine every inch of you carefully to find them all, then,” Louis said before turning his attention back to Harry's stomach. 

He licked the outline of Harry's laurels, tasting the slightly salty skin and feeling the muscles shift under his tongue as Harry squirmed. He started working the belt on Harry's jeans. Harry's breathing had turned just a little faster and shallow. 

“Is there anything I should know before I pull your pants down? Anything extra down here, too?” Louis joked and Harry shook his head, a smile adorning his flushed face. Louis could eat him up. 

“Nope, perfectly normal down there.” 

“God, the jeans you wear,” Louis said in a breathy voice, palming Harry's cock over the fabric. Harry hissed and pushed his hips up. “They're obscene. I swear I can see the outline of your dick, sometimes.” 

“I'm not the biggest fan of underpants” Harry replied, but the humor was gone from his voice. He was looking down expectantly at Louis. 

Louis smirked as he popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, revealing white underwear that did a perfect job at not hiding anything. 

“And today is the day you decide to wear them, huh,” Louis said and mouthed Harry over the fabric.  
Harry let out a delicious sound and closed his eyes.

“Didn't want to freeball tonight. Important event and all,” he replied, and his voice was definitely a bit hoarse. 

Louis peeled off his jeans, a task that proved to be a little more difficult than he was expecting it to be. Harry's jeans really were tight, and he ended up having to help Louis remove it past his feet.

Louis kneeled in the middle of Harry's open legs and took a moment to just look at the man laying in front of him, in just his underwear. Harry's stomach was rising up and down fast to match his breathing, one hand on his chest and the other on the bed. He was looking up with a smirk, as if he knew that he was stunning and enjoyed the attention. Louis' eyes travelled down his body and landed on his crotch, the white underwear already spotted with pre cum, and he had to swallow the saliva gathered in his mouth. 

Harry chuckled.

“Are you going to do something about that, or what?”

“Sorry, got distracted,” Louis snapped out of his daze and ran his hands over Harry's legs, starting on his calves and ending on his inner thighs. He lowered his head and bit down on it playfully. Harry giggled and pulled his leg a bit.

“You're ticklish,” Louis said, pleased, before sucking on both of Harry's thighs. 

“Not usually. I'm just...too riled up today.” Harry said, running his hands through Louis' hair. “Good think I had a wank before tonight or I would come as soon as you touched me.”

Louis laughed.

“You really did, huh?” He said as he hooked his thumbs on the waistband of Harry's underwear and began to pull it down slowly.

“Yeah, I was in the shower thinking about you, as usual, and it occurred to me that you would be all dressed up and that did it.”

“I'll wear a tie next time, then,” Louis said playfully, but his smile died on his lips when he finally got Harry rid of any clothing and just stared at him. “Fuck, Harry. Look at you.”

His fingers went to Harry's erection as if they had a will of their own, circling it and feeling how hard and hot and ready he was. 

He heard Harry hiss but was too busy looking at his hand on that work of art of a cock to look up at Harry's face. He tugged at him a few times, slowly, just to feel his hand slide along the shaft and lowered his head, licking a small bead of pre cum and circling his tongue around the head. 

“God, Lou.” Harry breathed out. 

Louis didn't bother with teasing and took Harry in his mouth all at once, humming at the taste and texture. He felt Harry's hand fly to his shoulders, squeezing as he bobbed his head up and down a bit.

“That feels amazing, Lou...” Harry said, and Louis finally looked up. He was so glad he did.

Harry's cheeks were flushed red, his eyes glossed and hooded as he looked down at him. His parted lips were pink and full, and his hair formed a halo around his head on the pillow. Louis felt his own cock twitch in his pants. He would worry about that later.

Louis took his time exploring, licking it different ways, playfully sucking along the shaft before swallowing him again. He studied how Harry reacted, how loud and deep he moaned every time Louis tried something different. 

“Fuck, you're too good at this,” Harry said, his voice strained and his breaths shallow. 

“It's because I love doing it. Especially on such a nice dick as yours,” Louis replied as he kissed Harry's hips and jerked him off, keeping him on edge. 

“That, that feels nice,” Harry said as Louis thumbed over the head, his finger wet with pre cum. He licked it clean before he gathered saliva in his mouth and started sucking him again. 

Harry threw his head back on the pillow with his eyes shut tight and drawled out a moan that sent shivers down Louis' spine. Harry's hands on his shoulder squeezed harder and he could feel nails digging into his skin. 

“I'm so close, so close...” Harry said, hips thrusting up almost warningly. 

“How long is your refractory period?” Louis asked, a little out of breath himself. Just the sight in front of him was enough to take his breath away.

“Short,” Harry breathed out, making a conscious effort to open his eyes and look at Louis.

“Good, because I want you to fuck me soon.” Louis said as he jerked him off faster and harder, loving the way Harry's hip met his closed hand, so desperate and needy.

“God, fuck...” Harry mumbled and then he was gone. His eyes closed and he frowned, his mouth hanging open as his orgasm hit him. He bit on his lips, breahing fast through his nose as his own come landed on the butterfly on his stomach.

Harry's orgasm was a beautiful thing to see, and Louis promised to himself to make that happen as often as he could. 

Harry was breathing fast when he opened his eyes again, to be met with Louis' intense gaze. 

“Jesus, Lou...what did do you to me?” He asked, giggling a bit and Louis kissed him softly. “I can barely move my legs.”

“I did what I've been wanting to do since you showed up at the pub and drove me crazy with your banter.”

“Should have done it right there and then,” Harry said as he ran his hands on his face, wiping a bit of sweat from his temples.

Louis took his chance to gingerly lick at Harry's stomach, tasting a bit of him.

“Are you trying to make me hard again not even a minute after I came?” Harry teased.

“I was just curious,” Louis said and opened the third drawer from his bedside table. From there he removed wet wipes, a condom and lube. Harry motioned to grab a wipe but Louis stopped him. 

“Let me.”

He cleaned the semen out of his hands before he carefully wiped Harry's stomach clean, leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach as he did so.

“You're very sweet in bed. I like that.” Harry pointed out with a fond smile as Louis gently cleaned his sensitive cock. He pulled Louis on top of him, kissing him firmly on the lips.

“And you're very fun.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Harry replied with a naughty smirk before he turned them around in bed and laid on top of Louis. “I have just realised you still got pants on. We can't let that happen anymore.”

Harry was much faster at ridding Louis of his clothes than Louis was, and he found himself completely naked in bed with a smiling Harry in between his legs. 

And then Harry's hand and mouth were all over him. His arms, chest, stomach, sides and legs. He felt his skin burn everywhere Harry touched him. Unlike Louis, who took his time exploring around, Harry seemed impatient and wanting to touch as many of Louis' skin as he could. 

His tongue lapped at the tip of Louis' cock as he ran his hands on the underside of Louis' body and spread his cheeks apart, letting his thumb slide in between them.

“Are we really doing this?” He asked, breathless as he sucked on Louis' neck.

“I want to. Do you want to?”

“I really, really do,” he said with a smirk, “Let's get this party started, shall we?” 

“Please,” was all Louis said as he watched Harry reach for the lube.

“Oh! I just remembered. Wanna see what's on my sex playlist?” Harry moved his body to get out of bed and reach his jeans that were on the floor when Louis grabbed him by the wrist and kept him in place.

“Don't you dare leave this bed, Harry Styles. If you do, I swear to God...”

Harry chuckled.

“Right, sorry,” he pecked Louis on the lips before he kneeled in front of him and put Louis' open legs over his own thighs. “Should we lay down a towel or something? The dark sheets will stain.”

“Harry, look at me. Do I look like I care about stupid sheets?”

Harry smiled down at him.

“Not really. You look like you're about to explode if I don't touch you soon.”

“Very perceptive of you.” 

Harry uncapped the lube and poured some on his index and middle finger, rubbing them together to warm it up a bit. He brought his hand to his face and sniffed.

“Chocolate, huh? My favorite.”

“I only realised it was scented when I got home.”

Harry licked the tip of his fingers and smiled.

“Flavoured, too.”

Louis groaned and Harry giggled.

“Alright, alright,” he mumbled and circled Louis' rim with his lube-coated index finger, teasing a bit before inserting it until the first knuckle. He watched Louis intently as he moved his finger completely inside of him.

“Feels nice,” Louis breathed out, smiling up at him and resting his hands on Harry's knees.

“Good,” Harry whispered and put on a small dollop of lube on the palm of his left hand before reaching for Louis' cock and wrapping his hand around it.

“Been wanting to see and touch you for so long,” he mumbled as Louis started to breathe faster. 

“Me too. Those hands of yours, those long fingers...God.” 

Harry smirked and sped up, drawing out a long, low hum from Louis' throat. 

Louis watched with his mouth hanging open the moment Harry wrapped his lips around his cock and sucked on it lightly.

“Fuck, Haz,” he let out a strangled moan as Harry put a second finger inside him, the burning stretch making him shudder. 

He placed both his hands on Harry's head, sliding his hands through Harry's long locks and tugging at them slightly. The last thing he wanted was to pull Harry's face away. The hair pulling made Harry moan around him and Louis' eyes rolled back into his head.

“So good, feels so good,” he mumbled as Harry moved his fingers in and out of him at the same speed of his mouth. That double stimulation was making him dizzy. And then Harry hit it. The exact spot that always had him weak and panting. It was no different this time.

“You're so responsive,” Harry said around him, licking at the slit. 

“How could I not? Your fingers are so long and your mouth is just sinful,” he managed to say, voice breaking and high-pitched. 

“Here's a fun fact about me: I have almost zero gag-reflex.”

To prove his point, Harry's head sank down deeper until Louis' pubic hair was tickling his nose. 

“Fuck!” Louis almost screamed, the sight of Harry like that making his mind go blank for a split second. The fact that Harry was relentlessly massaging his prostate only fuelled him more. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing and on the feeling of Harry's tongue against the underside of his cock and the fingers working him open pain free. He knew he was going to come in seconds. 

“I'm ready, I'm ready,” he said and pulled Harry's face up and off of him.

“But I wanna make you come.” Harry literally pouted and Louis somehow managed to not bite him. 

“I wanna come with you inside of me,” Louis explained, and fumbled around the sheets until he found the condom. He handed it to Harry, who had it on in almost record-breaking speed. 

“How do you wanna do this?” Harry asked in between kisses to Louis' face. In the midst of the mind blowingly good sex they were having, Harry still managed to make him laugh. 

“Let me ride you,” Louis whispered into Harry's ear. Harry was on his back before he could barely finish his sentence. 

Louis took the bottle of lube again and made sure Harry was thoroughly slicked up before swinging one leg over his hip. Harry held himself in his hands to help guide Louis to lower himself. 

Louis hissed when the tip of Harry's cock went inside him. He could feel the familiar stretch and relished on it.

“You okay?” Harry asked, concern barely concealing the pleasure on his face.

“More than okay,” Louis whispered back, sinking further and further down until his hips touched Harry's.

“You look so hot like this,” Harry said, running his hands on Louis' side and scraping his nails along his skin. 

Louis could see the effort Harry was making not to move an inch, to let Louis get comfortable before he tried anything, He lowered his torso and touched his lips to Harry's.

“Feels good for you, too?” He asked, tracing Harry's lips with his tongue, feeling his hot breath against his own mouth.

“Feels amazing. You're so warm...” Harry trailed off, hugging Louis closer and kissing him deeply with a hand to the back of Louis' neck. And then Harry moved his hip up a bit.

“Shit,” Louis said, putting his hands on Harry's chest and pushing himself upright. He rolled his lips and his eyes closed involuntarily as pleasure spiked inside him. “You're so big, Haz. The biggest I've ever been with.”

Harry groaned at the comment, and it soon turned into a moan as Louis moved up and down slowly, his cock leaking pre cum on Harry's stomach. 

Louis wasn't shy to admit that he could drive men crazy when he rode them. The way he rolled his lips had the perfect technique to drawl out screams of pleasure from his lovers, and he got the most pleasure out of it, too. 

“You're in so deep, so hard,” he said in a long moan, hands on Harry's damp chest. 

He felt his skin starting to get damp with sweat from his efforts as well. His thighs began to burn but he didn't stop, not when Harry was writhing with pleasure underneath him and hitting his prostate over and over again. Suddenly, Harry grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down, locking their lips together. 

“You're amazing,” he whispered into Louis' open mouth, “You make this feel so good for me.”

Harry planted his feet firmly on the bed and thrust up, making Louis scream.

“Do it again,” he managed to speak, his voice hoarse. And Harry did it, over and over again until Louis was sure he was going to come untouched. But Harry didn't allow that. Instead, he sneaked his hand between their bodies and started touching him, moving his hand with quick and harsh movements.

Louis came without warning, spilling on Harry's stomach, pleasure rushing so hard through him he lost control of his muscles for a second and let out a silent cry, biting down Harry's shoulder as he rode his orgasm fully. 

“Jesus, Harry,” he whispered, his whole body weight on top of Harry, too relaxed to move. In a quick movement, Harry flipped them around, immediately pushing himself inside Louis again in between his spread legs.

Harry put one arm under Louis' head and held his hip down with the other hand, holding Louis down so firmly he couldn't move an inch as Harry moved inside him relentlessly, in deep and fast thrusts. Harry's face was buried in his neck and he could hear him making guttural sounds in his throat as he reached for his own orgasm. 

Louis' nails sank deep into the skin of Harry's back as he moved faster and lost his pace, too close to maintain a steady rhythm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Harry chanted as he pulled out and ripped the condom off of him, jerking himself for half a second before he came on Louis' stomach, so hard it almost reached his neck. 

Louis could barely comprehend how hot Harry looked in his post-orgasm daze. He was sitting on his heels in front of him with closed eyes, breathing heavily and deeply, strands of hair stuck to his damp face and neck and shuddering lightly. Louis watched as his own come slid down Harry's torso to reach his pubic hair, and groaned.

Harry's eyes opened and he smiled down at Louis.

“Well, that was fun.” Louis said, and Harry laughed and his eyes closed again. He lowered his body until their chests were touching and kissed butterfly kisses over Louis' neck. He smelled of sweat and sex.

“I'd give it a ten out of ten,” Harry said with a smile that matched Louis'. “Sorry about that,” he gestured towards Louis' torso, “it's the kind of thing you ask before you do it, but I was so caught up I didn't even think about it.”

“Are you kidding me? It was hot as hell,” Louis replied, “Sorry about the nails on your back, too.”

“As you said it yourself, hot as hell,” Harry said, and his breathing was almost back to normal.

“I don't think wet wipes will cut it this time,” Louis said, and Harry's eyes grew mischievous.

“Are you asking me to join you for a shower, Louis Tomlinson?”

“I am, Harry Styles. Before we both fall asleep in this mess we've made.

“I quite liked the mess, you know,” Harry said, stretching his back muscles and getting out of bed on wobbly feet. Louis followed him to the bathroom already yawning. 

Louis was hopeful for a little bit of fooling around in the bathroom, maybe a handjob to finish the night, but they were both too tired for funny business. But he got to wash Harry's hair and back, which was on another level of eroticism. 

When Harry was putting on a pair of borrowed underwear, he turned to Louis and said “I can leave now, if you want me to. I can walk home, no problem.”

“What are you talking about? Louis asked, slipping on a pair of boxers himself. 

“If you think it's awkward if I sleep over.” Harry said, and moved to grab his shirt off the floor.

“Are you serious?” Louis said, stopping him and guiding him back to bed. “Do you really think I want that?”

“I don't think so, but we've never done this before, I don't know what you like to do after sex.” Harry looked torn and Louis just wanted to kiss him. 

“It depends on the person I'm with.” Louis said, and made sure Harry laid down on the bed next to him, “With you, I want to maybe chat for a bit before we fall asleep. And I want to wake up next to you and cuddle, for sure. I'm definitely a morning cuddler.”

Harry smiled and laid on his side, facing Louis. 

“Me too,” he said and rested his hand on Louis' hip. “I also like being the little spoon, if you want to sleep like that.”

Louis smiled so wide his eyes crinkled.

“Sometimes I wonder if you're even real.”

“If I weren't real, could I do this?” Harry said and pinched Louis side, making him squirm and laugh.

“It's late, don't get me riled up again,” he complained, but he didn't mind it at all.

“Sorry, let's just sleep. Good night, Lou,” he said and kissed Louis tenderly on the lips. He felt Louis' lips curve up in a smile.

“Good night, Haz,” he replied and waited for Harry to turn to his other side and scooted over, putting his arm over Harry's waist and his hand on his chest. He smiled to himself when Harry picked up his hand and kissed the back of it before holding it tight against him. He was still smiling when he fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Louis woke up with a jolt to the sound of some horrific techno music that made him jump out of his skin and his eyes bulge.

“Shit, sorry,” he heard Harry say and then it hit him. Harry was in his bed, with him. They'd had sex the night before and life was wonderful.

He watched Harry fumble out of bed to get to his pants on the floor. He fished out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and turned off the alarm. Harry in just a pair of tight underwear (it was Louis' after all) walking about his bedroom bathed in early-morning sunlight was a great thing to see first thing in the morning. 

“What time is it?” Louis said, blinking and relaxing again in his bed. He saw the book he was currently reading next to him on the mattress.

“It's 7:15,” Harry said and crawled back in bed with a huge smile on his face. 

“You set your alarm for 7:15 on Sundays?” Louis asked, and he couldn't resist the silent invitation of Harry opening up his arms to him and laid his head on his shoulder.

“It's my day to sleep in.”

“Ugh, you healthy freak. I thought your voice sounded sexy during sex, and now your morning voice came into play.”

“Thanks, you sound sexy, too,” he said with a smile and kissed the top of Louis' head. “You sore?”

“No, I'm fine. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that you're really here, though,” he paused for a moment and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of Harry’s skin.” That last night really happened.

“Why is it difficult?” Harry asked, the tips of his fingers tracing up and down Louis' arm.

“Because we've been flirting and walking in circles for so long. I was beginning to think you were just doing it to indulge me. That nothing would really come out of it and I'd be forever sexually frustrated because this beautiful boy with curly hair was just out of my league.”

Harry chuckled. “You've never even opened the suggestion box I gave you, have you?”

“I read the first few ones you left. After the one you asked me to add fruit salad as an appetizer during game night I kinda stopped. Why?” He frowned. 

“Maybe you should check it when you have some time,” he said and Louis nodded and turned his face up, sealing their lips together in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. Morning breath was not a turn on and he didn't want to subject Harry to that. 

“Were you reading?” He picked up the book The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt. He was almost done with it, and he saw a small piece of the condom wrapper being used as a page marker. Harry was well into page sixty.

“Yeah, waiting for you to wake up.”

“You didn't have to, you could have just woken me up,” he said as he ran his hand on Harry's stomach, tracing the V that led to his crotch with the tips of his fingers. 

“You were sound asleep and it was super early. I don't sleep well in strange beds,” he said, and held Louis' hand, starting a silly thumb war. 

“We have to make sure you sleep over a lot until you get used to it. Don't want you having sleepless nights,” he said and grunted as Harry's thumb covered his own. “I'm shit at this.”

“That's because you have tiny hands,” Harry teased and Louis scoffed.

“I'm sorry we can't all have wheel-loader hands.”

“They're great for eating popcorn as well,” Harry said and laughed as he won again. 

Louis sighed and rolled on the bed, moving to get up. 

“Wait, sorry. Didn't want to offend you,” Harry said, holding him by the waist with big, puppy eyes, “your hands are fine, loved them on me last night.”

“No, silly,” Louis smiled and kissed him on the tip of his nose, “I need a wee, that's all.”

“Oh, good,” Harry said and laid back down. “Already used the bathroom. And your toothbrush as well, hope you don't mind.” 

Louis didn't.

“I don't think I could ever be disgusted by you.”

“Is that a dare?” Harry's eyes lit up.

“No, let's not try to gross each other out just yet” Louis said as he walked out of the bedroom.

“Are you sure? I can start clipping my toenails in bed just about now,” Harry half shouted ,“I'm flexible enough to do it with my teeth, I think!”

“Let's use this flexibility for better things,” Louis snapped back.

He smiled as he used the bathroom. He smiled as he brushed his teeth. He smiled as he washed his face. He smiled as he ran a comb through his hair. Louis could not help himself but simply smile, It was indeed a beautiful morning. When he came back, Harry was laying on his stomach, a pillow supporting his arms as he held the book and silently read. 

Louis stopped at the threshold and admired him. Harry had the most gorgeous back he had ever seen, broad and muscular. His hair was long enough to be falling off his shoulders. He walked to the bed and Harry looked back at him.

“What happened to the bed hair? I liked it.”

“You are so beautiful,” was all Louis said before he sat down on Harry's bum and started a made-up massage technique on Harry's shoulder. 

“Hum, that feels good.” Harry purred.

“Read for me, aloud. Love your voice.”

Harry cleared his throat and started.

_”I like this one too,” whispered my mother, coming up alongside me at a smallish and particularly haunting still life: a white butterfly against a dark ground, floating over some red fruit. The background – a rich chocolate black – had a complicated warmth suggesting crowded storerooms and history, the passage of time._

“They're at the gallery, right?” Louis asked, letting his hands roam to Harry's lower back. He had no idea what he was doing, but he loved the feeling of skin and muscles under his hands. Harry hummed in response. “You won't believe what happens next.”

“What?” Harry said, trying to look at Louis but failing because of the awkward angle. 

“I won't give you spoilers, you'll have to read it,” he said and slid off of Harry, laying next to him. “You can keep the book, I've read it a million times already. It fucks me up in the best way.”

“I will, thanks.” Harry said and closed the book in his hands, putting it on the nightstand. “I'm sure it will be no Harry Potter, but I'll give it a try,” he joked.

“Potterhead, huh?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Big one. If you don't like Harry Potter we should end this now, I could never raise children with someone with such different fundamental beliefs as mine.” 

Louis chuckled. 

“I like Harry Potter just fine. Ron is my spirit animal.” 

Harry laughed at that and bit his lips, letting his eyes wander on Louis' soft morning features.

“Good morning, Lou,” he said and cupped Louis' face with his hand and kissed him deeply. His tongue darted inside Louis' mouth, who was more than willing to comply and let himself be kissed into a puddle. He still tasted of toothpaste.

“Good morning, Haz,” he whispered back when they pulled apart, a small string of saliva connecting their mouths. 

“I believe I was promised cuddles,” Harry said and Louis giggled, tangling their legs together and bringing them chest to chest, both their heads resting on his pillow. He brought his face to Harry's neck and inhaled deeply. 

“You smell amazing in the morning,” he said, and nibbled on the warm skin.

“You smell and look amazing, too. Puffy eyes and soft skin.” Harry said and pressed their bodies closer.

“Aren't we both disgustingly sweet this morning,” Louis teased and Harry smiled. 

“Not just this morning, I like to be this way all the time.”

“I can get used to that,” Louis said and kissed Harry lazily again. He sucked on Harry's bottom lip and licked the inside of his mouth, their tongues touching in a heated open-mouthed kiss. 

“You'll get me hard in no time like this,” Harry whispered and pressed his hips firmly against Louis'. He was already half-way there.

“Morning sex is kind of my favorite,” Louis whispered back. “Love waking up to a good blowjob.”

“Giving or receiving?” Harry teased as he slid his hand down Louis' underwear and cupped his cheeks.

“Both, I don't care which.”

“Sixty nineing must drive you up the wall.”

“Why don't you see that for yourself, huh?” Louis replied, and Harry kissed him hard again. 

Then his phone blasted into life as he got a phone call. 

“Aren't you going to get that?” Louis asked as Harry kissed his neck. 

“Probably Liam, we'll talk later. I have more interesting things to occupy myself with right now.” 

Louis glanced over Harry's shoulder to look at the phone.

“It says “mum” on the screen.”

“Better get that,” Harry mumbled and turned around, his legs still intertwined. “She'll keep calling until I answer,” he said as he tapped on the screen. “Hi, mum.”

Louis smiled at the tone Harry used with his mother, full of love and cheer. 

“I'm fine, you? Great, how is Gems? It was wonderful, mum. You wouldn't believe how fancy the place was and how many people I talked with. Yeah, he liked it,” Harry glanced at Louis, “Let me keep it up and everything.”

“I'll give you some privacy,” Louis whispered and crawled out of bed. He was going to get breakfast started.

He knew Harry wasn't a big coffee drinker and that he loved a good, sweet fennel tea. He put on the kettle and climbed up the garden to get some fresh fennel. It was a beautiful day and Louis was humming to himself when he climbed back down and into the kitchen. 

He could hear Harry chatting with his mum in the bedroom while he fixed them some tea. He was a good tea maker, Harry had told him, and he was more than happy to fix him a cuppa in the morning.

When Harry walked into the kitchen, still in just underwear, bless him, the steaming mug was ready and waiting for him. 

“Thanks,” he said and sipped, standing next to Louis in the sink. “It's delicious.”

“Fresh from the garden,” Louis said with a pleased smile, “What do you want for breakfast?”

“You,” Harry whispered and stepped closer, circling Louis' wait and kissing him with a tea-hot mouth. 

Louis giggled and pulled away. “I'm seriously hungry right now. I could also hear your stomach grumble when we were in bed. What do you usually have for breakfast?”

“Fruit.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Of course. I have apples, a banana and an avocado, I think.” 

Harry made a face. “Not avocados, thanks. Do you have a pancake mix? I could eat some pancakes.”

“A pancake mix, Harold?” Harry giggled at the pet name. “I can make you some from scratch. I didn't survive until adulthood with pre-made pancake mix.”

“My bad, can I help?” He asked as Louis moved about the kitchen and got all the ingredients necessary.

“You can flip them, I'm not the best at it. They always come out weirdly shaped.”

They set about making them, Louis working the batter as Harry cooked them. Louis watched, endeared, as Harry put his hair up in a bun and washed his hands before he touched any kitchen utensils. A few minutes later and Harry was standing in front of the stove with one leg bent, his foot pressed firmly against his calf as he worked on making beautifully round and fluffy pancakes. 

Louis was eager to make that his new morning routine. 

“They are coming out great,” Louis said, fixing them another cup of hot tea to drink while they ate.

“I'm a pancake master. I make mean toast as well, all complicated dishes,” Harry said proudly as he stacked the last couple of ones in their plates. Louis grabbed one for himself and sat at the table. Harry looked at him questioningly.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Huh...eating breakfast?” Louis replied, not really getting Harry's question.

“At the table?”

“Would you rather eat in bed, or...?”

“Are you seriously telling me you don't eat breakfast in the garden, Louis?”

“Oh, almost never. It's difficult to haul things up there when you're alone.” 

“Well today we have two pairs of hands. Come on, help me with these things.”

Together they managed to bring both plates, forks and their mugs of tea to the garden. Louis sat on the bench, in the shade, and was amused to see Harry sitting on the decked floor and crossing his legs.

“You're like a cat in the sun,” Louis pointed out.

“Vitamin D is very important, you know. Come sit with me,” he invited, and Louis knew a long time ago that he just couldn't say no to Harry. 

He sat down in front of him and crossed his legs, their knees touching. The sun felt warm on his skin, and it was his first time eating pancakes in the garden in only his underwear. It felt liberating.

“You know something I've always wanted to do here?” Harry asked him all seriously.

“What?”

“Suck you off on that bench,” Harry replied with a smirk and Louis laughed, spitting his tea all over himself. “What? As if you hadn't thought of something like that!” Harry said and laughed too, wiping away a few drops from Louis' chin.

“The things you say,” Louis said, shaking his head, “but yeah, I have.”

“What did you think about?” Harry asked, munching on a piece of pancake.

“Jesus, Harry.” Louis ran a hand through his hair, “I had no idea you were so... sexual like that.”

“Oh,” Harry looked surprised and his eyes darkened. “Sorry, I'll try to tone it down. I didn't know it would bother you.”

“No no no,” Louis was quick to say, putting his empty plate beside him and holding Harry's face with both hands. “I didn't mean it in a bad way, no. I love that about you, honestly.”

“It didn't sound like it,” Harry replied, still looking upset. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it for it to sound like I didn't like it. I am really surprised, that's all. Pleasantly surprised, I mean.” He kissed Harry softly on the lips and felt them turn up into a smile. 

“You really don't mind it?”

“That you want to suck me off on the bench and want to have sex with me? Nah, I don't think so,” he joked and Harry giggled. “We can talk about sex as much as you want, honestly.”

“Great, because I want to do a lot of things with you. Last night was just a preview.”

“Like what?” Louis raised his brows and Harry giggled.

“Please, Louis. We're still eating breakfast,” Harry faked disgust.

“I've finished all of mine,” Louis pouted and reached for Harry's plate. 

Harry batted his hand away. “Get your paws away from my food,” he joked and Louis put his hands on Harry's sides, tickling him slightly. 

“Come on, I'm still hungry.”

“You'll make me drop everything,” Harry squealed, keeping his plate up and finally setting it down on the floor. All in great timing because a few seconds later they were full on wrestling on the floor. Louis was getting a little turned on, if he was being honest with himself. Rolling around with a pretty much naked Harry on the floor could have an effect like that on anyone, he figured.

Neither of them heard the steps approaching them, busy with laughter. 

“Well well well, what have we here?” 

They immediately froze in place, Harry straddling Louis and holding his arms up with both hands. They snapped their heads up to see both Niall and Liam standing over them, arms crossed and an amused smile on their faces. 

“Look, Lou. Our favorite leaves are here.”

Liam frowned and looked at Niall, who just shook his head. Harry got off of Louis and they stood up.

“Pancakes, anyone?” Louis joked and they all shared amused smiles. Harry hugged Liam tightly and then Niall, and neither seemed to be bothered by the fact that he wasn't wearing much. “What are you doing here, Liam? I thought you were taking the 11am train.”

“I decided to come earlier and take a walk downtown before buying you a celebratory lunch. But more importantly, what are _you_ doing here, mister I'm-not-shagging-Louis-tonight-so-just-drop-it Styles?” Liam teased and Harry turned red. 

“So it was your plan all along, huh?” Louis asked and Harry mumbled something he couldn't listen. “How did you even get up here, anyway?”

Niall shook the key-chain Louis had left with him the night before handing it back to him. Oh, right.

“You weren't answering my texts, neither of you,” Niall looked at both of them, “so we had to come and check if you were so hungover that you needed physical help to get the day going.”

“I honestly don't even know where my phone is,” Louis said as he picked up the plates and mugs to bring them back down again. 

“Understandable, you were distracted,” Niall teased and Louis fake-kicked him in the face as he climbed down the steps.

“Hey, Harry, your mum sent you this,” Liam pointed to a small package he'd left earlier on the kitchen counter. “Said she'll be here with Gemma on Friday.”

Harry's eyes lit up at the prospect of a present from his family, rolling the small package in his hands as if he were afraid to break it.

“I'll put some clothes on,” Louis started to walk to the bedroom but Niall stopped him.

“Hey, quick question. Who made the first move?”   
Liam looked at Niall and then back to Harry and Louis.

“What do you mean?” Louis said, exchanging a glance with Harry.

“Who kissed who first? I'm assuming you were kissing before falling mouth-first on each other's dicks.” Niall teased and his blunt tone made Louis blush a little. 

“I kissed Louis last night,” Harry interjected, and Niall groaned frustratedly.

“Yes! Pay up, Irish boy,” Liam chimed in, looking too pleased with himself.

“Damn it, Tommo! You owe me for this.” Niall said, taking his wallet and handing Liam twenty pounds.

“You had a bet on who was going to make the first move?” Harry asked with a snort, “Wish you had told me sooner, I wanted in on this.”

“You are such a coward, Louis,” Niall mumbled, clearly upset about giving up the money.

“I'll use this for lunch today, so don't feel bad about it,” Liam said and clapped Niall's shoulder.

“Where are we going to eat?” Harry asked, expectantly.

“Anywhere you like. It's on us today.” Niall said, back to his old, cheery self.

“Go get dressed so we can go,” Liam instructed, and both Harry and Louis headed to the bedroom.

“We'll stop by the gallery later, right?” Louis said as he rummaged through his closet in search of something nice to wear. Harry was already dressed in the clothes from the night before and he looked even more stunning. Maybe it was because now Louis knew how his skin tasted and felt under his touch. 

“Right, I want to show them both the pictures and hang out a bit, see if anybody shows up. Get the rest of my presents as well.”

“What did you get from your mum?” Louis asked, starting to lay out clothes on the bed.

“I don't know yet. I want to open it when I'm on the phone with her. Maybe I'll Skype her when I open it so she can see my reaction.”

Louis smiled at him fondly. Harry was so caring and thoughtful it made him feel warm inside.

“Maybe I'll even Skype you later,” Harry said and hugged him from behind, tracing his ear softly with his lips.

“Don't bother, I'll come over,” Louis said, turning around and kissing him softly. 

“Great, really want you to,” Harry whispered and pressed their chests flushed together. Getting dressed was proving to be really difficult that morning. 

“Hey, no monkey business, you two! We are waiting over here,” they heard Niall shout from the living room.   
“We should hurry up, Liam rarely comes to London and he loves sight-seeing.” Harry said and let Louis go, “Put this on, it looks great on you,” Harry pointed to a white-stripped t-shirt, and the outfit for Louis' day was settled.

They stopped by quickly to Harry's place so he could change into different clothes. He still had on the gold boots, but opted for a baby-blue shirt that made him soft and ellegant at the same time.

Harry wasn't joking when he said Liam enjoyed sight-seeing. They were behaving like proper tourists, even splurging for a ride in the London Eye, which left Harry weak in the knees from the height. They ate at a gourmet restaurant that served dishes that were half-empty and cost more than they should spend, but it   
made Harry feel special and that was all they cared about. 

Both Niall and Liam gasped when they entered the gallery showcasing Harry's pictures. It had just opened for the day, and it was quite empty still. They walked about, carefully studying the pictures and the descriptions, and they were so stunned by Louis' picture that they didn't even tease him about it. 

“This is so great, mate!” Niall hugged Harry tight, “You're going to be rich and famous! Don't forget about us, please.”

“I'm not sure about rich, but I'm aiming for famous.”

“National Geographic will be lucky to have you as a free lance for them.” Liam said, and Harry was grinning so widely that his face must have hurt. 

They lingered enough around the gallery to see people coming and study their expressions. They were all commenting on different pictures, taking photos of the pictures themselves and talking to Harry about them, who was not the least bit shy to introduce himself to anybody and strike up a conversation. 

Louis mostly watched it from afar, just like he had done the night before. He was beaming with pride, because these were actually common people who came in to admire Harry's work. They weren't being paid or writing an article, they had come just to appreciate his art. He also didn't trust his own hands now that he had permission to touch Harry wherever he wanted. 

“So...” Niall started, walking up to him.

Louis bit his lips. They both had their eyes on Liam and Harry, who were talking to a group of teenage boys, all with their own cameras in hand.

“So...” Louis mimicked his mate.

“You and Harry, huh?”

Niall had the most smug look on his face.

“Don't act like you're surprised it happened.”

“I actually am surprised. Harry was telling me just last week about how he'd tried to make his move and you pushed him away.”

“He what?!” Louis was baffled, leaning towards Niall with all his attention focused on him. “Since when does he talk to you about me?”

“How long ago did we meet him?” Was Niall's snarky reply. 

“Are you for real? Why didn't you tell me this?”

“Because he asked me not to.”

“But...I'm your best friend! You're my greenest leaf!”

“Mate, you sound crazy with the leaf talk. And if anybody tells me something in secret, my loyalty is with my word. I ain't no snitch, man!” Niall faked a north-american accent and Louis laughed. 

“Did he say I pushed him away?” Louis asked, looking at Harry. He caught his eye and playfully blew a kiss to him. Louis giggled and pretended to catch it, setting it on his lips.

“Oh God, this is gonna be a nightmare,” Niall shook his head, but his smile betrayed him. “He said he thought you were just being nice to him. I told him that you weren't nice to anyone unless you wanted to get inside their pants.”

“Thanks, that makes me sound super romantic.”

“Well I'm not lying. You wanted to get in his pants. You actually _did_ get in his pants. And if you don't send me a pic of his naked butt I'll stop being your leaf.”

Louis laughed out loud at that and drew Harry's attention to him. He saw Harry excuse himself and come to him.

“What are you two talking about that is making you all giggly?” He said, and put his hand on Louis' lower back. 

“Niall wants me to sneak a picture of your ass to send to him.” 

Niall didn't look at all ashamed.

“Why didn't you just say so, Nialler? You can take it yourself. How's tomorrow morning for you?” Harry joked and pinched Niall's own bum.

Niall squealed and scurried away. 

“Anyone who can appreciate a good joke is a keeper in my book,” he said and checked his watch. “This looks amazing, mate, but I have to go. I'll drop by tomorrow morning and I trust you with a good camera angle,” he winked at Harry, “Wear a green shirt, I want an Irish vibe.”

“Sure thing,” Harry saluted him. Niall walked over to Liam to say goodbye. 

“Actually, I'm gonna go with Niall. I have a few things I need to get ready at the pub and I'm sure you want some alone time with Liam before he catches his train.”

“You don't have to go, he doesn't mind you being around. He thinks you're funny.”

“Only him, huh?” Louis teased and lightly ran his fingers on Harry's sides.

“Only him. I think you're dull and grumpy. But you've got a nice cock, so I guess I'll put up with you.”

“Shhh” Louis shushed him, looking around to see if anybody had heard him. “You've been putting up with me for months without seeing it, though.”

“I had faith in you,” Harry said and Louis laughed, briefly hiding his face on Harry's chest. 

“I'll see you tonight, okay?” He said and Harry nodded with a smile that was so full of joy that Louis couldn't help sneak a kiss. “Call me when you drop Liam off at the station.”

“Bye, Lou. Thanks for last night. The earth-shattering orgasms and all.” Harry said before stealing a kiss himself. 

“Anytime,” Louis said with a chuckle.

Niall had to practically untangle him from Harry so they could go. The first thing Louis did when he got to the pub was check the suggestion box. He found it filled with pretty much only Harry's notes, written in cursive. He smiled as he looked through them.

_Karaoke night would be a hit  
H._

_Body shots are not nearly encouraged enough >:(  
H._

_You look great in that shirt. Any shirt you're thinking is the correct one  
H._

_Two words: Disco ball  
H._

Louis' smile grew as he read the other ones, the ones on top of the small pile inside the box.

_I want to kiss you so bad  
H._

_Please, kiss me  
H._

_My jeans can't get any tighter without me becoming sterile, just kiss me  
H._

_Seriously, Lou? Fine, I'll kiss you instead  
H. _

Louis was so glad Harry did just that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading my story this far, I hope you are enjoying it :)  
> There is some smut in this chapter. It starts as Louis goes to Harry's place and you can continue reading after the sentence: “Am I too heavy on you?”

In the following month, Louis learned a lot about Harry.

He learned that Harry actually was a health freak that got up at six in the morning to run every single day. How did Louis learn this? By constantly being woken up by Harry's alarm whenever they spent the night together, either at his or Harry's place. 

Some days Harry convinced him to go with him, some days Louis convinced him to stay in bed. But mostly, Harry kissed him goodbye and left before he even had a chance to realise what was going on. He would only fully wake up to join Harry in the shower after he'd finished with his exercises, which happened to be at a reasonable hour. 

He learned that Harry loved when he was loud during sex. It riled him up to no extent, and Louis had never been very shy when it came to showing how good he was feeling, so they fit together. He learned all sorts of sex-related things.

He learned that Harry was great at sexting, writing down things Louis could never say out loud. The first few times, Louis honest to God blushed and stared at his phone without knowing what to write back. Then he got the hang of it, not even flinching when he read an obscene text right in the middle of happy hour at the pub, surrounded by people. He'd wank himself to sleep later those nights, but he managed to keep his composure and a straight face while he typed down the things he wanted to do with Harry.

He learned that Harry loved dirty talking. It didn't come as a surprise to Louis because Harry simply would never shut up, but he was surprised to discover _he_ was very good at it, too. Sometimes, only being told what Louis was going to do with him was enough to make Harry come before Louis even had a chance to do them in the first place. Far from him to be complaining, though. He loved Harry's expression when he came and the sounds that followed. 

He also learned Harry had a bit of an oral fixation. It drove Louis wild when he saw Harry touching his own mouth absentmindedly while they were watching TV on the sofa or when they were reading in bed. He didn't mind it then because he had the chance to ravish Harry's mouth and put it to good use. What bothered him was when he did it when they were in public, and while Louis couldn't blame him half the time, but the other half he was sure Harry knew exactly what he was doing when he was playing with his lips when they were surrounded by people and Louis could do nothing about it. Harry was a little shit when he wanted to.

He learned little things as well. How Harry loved being kissed on his face. Small, butterfly kisses that melted him and left him smiling like an idiot. Louis loved that. How Harry had a spot on his back that made him shiver whenever Louis kissed it. He called it a connection straight to his dick because he would get hard in seconds when touched there. How Harry would talk in his sleep after having too much black tea before bed.

He learned how Harry smelled in the mornings, and fresh out of a shower. How he smelled after a run and after sex. He particularly liked how Harry smelled after a day of photographing, when he came to the pub all giddy with excitement and told Louis about all the beautiful people and things he'd seen; then, he smelled of sweat and happiness.

He learned that once Harry knew he was allowed to touch you, he never stopped. Everytime they were within touching distance, Harry's hand would be on him. Not sexually – not all the time, anyway – they were just for comfort, just to show he was around. Slight brushes of fingers down Louis arm when they were leaning on the pub's counter and talking. Small adjustments to Louis' fringe, which was getting quite long. If one of the reasons for Louis to keep it long was because it made Harry touch him, nobody could blame him. The point was, Harry was always around, always reaching out to him, and Louis couldn't get enough of it. And the kissing. Jesus Christ, all the kissing.

He also learned new things about himself. He discovered that he quite like orgasm-delay, as counterproductive as it sounded. He'd cursed and cursed Harry, who had kept him on edge for almost an hour before letting him come, but in the end he was thanking him and all the gods for how good it felt. 

He learned that kissing during sex was a huge turn on for him. He'd never bothered to kiss his lovers much before, always considering it part of foreplay more than anything. But not with Harry and the things he could do with his mouth. He found himself shamelessly seeking Harry's lips when they fucked, in whatever position they were in. He also learned that he wasn't as flexible as Harry was. 

One of the things he learned about Harry that made him laugh until tears rolled down his face was that Harry actually kept a tab of how many times either he or Louis had topped during sex.

“What, like it's a competition or something?” Louis had said through tears when Harry told him one night he was particularly blissed after Louis had fucked his brains out, almost literally going by the way Harry was slurring his words more than usual. 

“It's not a competition because we both win.”

“How philosophical of you. Tell me, what's the score?” Louis prodded him with his fingers until Harry managed to lazily roll on his stomach to grab his phone, smearing come on the sheets Louis had just changed. It only made him laugh more, and maybe he was a little out of it himself as well.

“With this one... nine to seven,” he said, checking his cell.

“To whom?” Louis asked curiously.

“Nine to me,” he said with a smug smile.

“Well, that's not fair.”

“No, it isn't.”

“I say we even that out,” he whispered in Harry's ear, nibbling on it lightly. “On your hands and knees, Harry Styles.”

It was nine to eight that night. 

After Harry's pictures had been in the gallery for a couple of weeks, the crowd in the pub had increased considerably. Now, mixed with the regulars were all sorts of people, from different backgrounds. Most were from Tottenham itself, but some had ventured from other areas of London to explore it. It was a particularly busy Wednesday night that Harry texted him. Louis looked at the clock and saw it was 11:02 (they had to start closing the pub later, now), and that meant that Harry was bored and the text was probably a dirty one. 

Once he'd sent Louis a picture of himself laying down on his bed, completely naked and touching himself. The caption was 'thinking of you' and Louis had to physically stop himself from moaning and running up to Harry's place to finish him off. So it was reasonable that he was weary of opening it in a room full of people. 

“I'm gonna go outside for some fresh air,” he told Niall before going out in the street and opening the text. He was both relieved and disappointed to see there was no picture. 

_WHY DID YOU LET ME RAED THIS BOOK YOU FUCKER, I HAVENT CRIED READING A BOOK SINCE DUMBLEDORE DIED AND NOW IM A MESS!! I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME :((((((_

Louis laughed, startling a man who was just walking out of the pub. He was quick to dial Harry's number.

“I'm so mad at you right now,” was how Harry picked up the phone.

“So I'm assuming you finished it, huh.”

“I can hear your smile, you dickhead.” Harry said, and Louis thought he heard him sniffling.

“Are you actually crying?” He asked, unable to contain his laugh. “It's not even a sad ending.”

“Well, it's not a happy one, either” he said, sniffling one more time and clearing his throat. “I just connected with Theo, you know? I pretty much watched him grow up and become that jackass he is, and with good reason, I might add. I just wanted him to be happy, he's been through so much.”

“You know he's not real, right?” Louis teased.

“I'm hanging up, bye,” Harry said, dryly.

“No, don't hang up, I'm just teasing you,” he quickly said, but was still smiling. “Can I come over and kiss you better when I'm done here?”

It was almost as if he could see Harry biting his lip and debating between being petty or getting a nice make-out session before bed.

“You can come, I will allow it.”

“Good, I'll probably close soon,” he said, and as if to prove his point, a large group of people left the pub at once and he nodded at them.

“Bring condoms, I'm out.”

“Harry Styles, what makes you think we're having sex? Maybe I'll just want a cuddle.”

“You're right. Maybe. Hang on a sec.”

Louis waited for almost a full minute, tapping his foot on the ground and saying goodbye to a few more people leaving. He looked through the window and saw Niall chatting with the last costumer of the night. His phone beeped with a text. 

Still on the line, he opened it and gasped when he saw the picture Harry had sent of him just in his underwear, touching his still soft dick over the thin black fabric. 

“Okay, maybe I'll want more than a cuddle,” he said into the receiver, and Harry giggled. “See, I'm making you feel better already.”

“See you in a bit, Lou. Think of me on the way here, I'll get myself ready for you.”

Louis groaned.

“Why do you do this me?”

“Because it's fun and you were being mean. Now go close up. Unless you want to hear it?”

“I hate you sometimes, you know,” Louis snarled, but didn't get a chance to say anything else because Harry hung up, laughing. 

“Closing, right,” he mumbled to himself and tried not to look as if he was urging the last customer to leave, a factory worker who had started to come every Wednesday for a pint for a couple of months. And then it was Niall who stroke up a conversation with him about some indie folk hipster band he'd seen back in Ireland once, as if they hadn't spent the entire day talking. 

“That's great, Niall,” he said, already starting to flick some of the lights off.

“Are you even listening to me? In what planet is it considered great to have a person high on acid throw up on you in the middle of a gig?”

Louis stopped in his tracks.

“I didn't mean great great, I meant...” Niall was looking suspiciously at him, “Look, Harry just texted me and invited me to come over, so I was kinda hoping to close soon.”

Niall smiled wickedly. 

“Am I stalling your romantic endeavours?” He wiggled his brows.

“Yes, actually.”

Niall moved to sit on a stool but Louis' glare was enough to get him going and they were done in ten minutes. Louis went upstairs to quickly wash his hands and face and brush his teeth. He thought about a quick shower and decided against it. He could always shower at Harrys, and that could always lead to shower sex, which was quite nice. 

On the way to Harry's flat Louis did as he was told, and kept thinking about Harry fingering himself and the small whimpers that always came with it. It was good he was pretty much jogging on the way there otherwise he would arrive sporting a very embarrassing erection. The things that boy did to him. 

He climbed the stairs to Harry's floor two steps at a time, and was happy to see Harry had already unlocked the door for him. He locked it after himself when he entered and tiptoed to the bedroom. 

“Trying to be sneaky, are we?” Harry teased from the bed. He was a sight to see. Naked and with one hand crossed under his head on the pillow, the other one stroking himself lazily, his knees bent and legs slightly spread. Louis saw a wet spot under Harry's bum and a shiver ran down his spine. 

“Fuck, Harry. Look at you,” he said, toeing his shoes off and tossing the light jeans jacket he was wearing on the desk chair. Harry held out his hand and coiled his finger, beckoning Louis. Louis threw himself over him, landing between his legs. “Every time I think I'll get used to how hot you look, and every time you have me drooling,” he said and crashed his lips with Harry's, holding his jaw and opening his mouth to lick inside, eagerly. 

Harry whimpered and crossed his ankles behind Louis' back, mumbling something into the kiss that Louis didn't quite catch, but he was too busy devouring him to ask. Louis tugged at Harry's hair and he threw his head back, exposing his neck. 

“You're such a tease,” Louis whispered in between sucking bruises along Harry's collarbone, “but you make it all so worth it that it's very difficult to get mad at you. You taste amazing, too,” he said a little out of breath already. 

He slid his hand along Harry's leg, on the inside of his thighs and purposefully avoided his dick, which looked painfully hard. He let his hand sink lower and felt Harry slick and hot under his fingers.

“Fuck, you weren't kidding when you said you'd get yourself ready,” Louis whimpered. 

“Take your clothes off, I've been dying to get you inside of me,” he whispered and tugged at Louis' shirt, which prompted him to take it off as Harry worked on the front of his jeans. “You smell of beer,” he said, nuzzling Louis' chest. 

“Sorry, I think I spilled some on me today. Meant to take a shower before we did this. Want me to do it right now real quick?” He asked, already moving to get out of bed. Harry held him in place.

“No, no need for that,” he kissed up Louis' torso, working his jeans off while he did it, “it makes me think of happy memories.”

“Happy memories, huh?” Louis said as he peeled off his socks and went back to kissing Harry deeply.

“Of when I met you. I always thought of you when I smelled beer after that.”

Louis chuckled. “Of all the smells in the world...” he said, but was cut off when Harry held both their cocks together and started pumping his fist. Louis gasped and started rutting against him.

“God, I love doing this,” Harry said in a long moan, his eyes closed shut. Louis kissed him until his lips were red and swollen, short pants of breath escaping them every once in a while as their griding became more frantic. “Did you bring the condoms?” Harry asked between kisses, out of breath already. 

“Shit! Knew I was forgetting something.”

Harry immediately stopped moving.

“You're joking, right?” He said, looking up at Louis with a serious expression.

“Sorry, I'll make it up to you with a really nice blowjob, I promise,” he said in a soft voice.

“Fuck, I'm so horny. Really wanted you to fuck me tonight.” Harry said, hiding his face behind his hands and letting out an exaggerated sigh. 

“Tomorrow, okay?” Louis said, moving his face down Harry's body and dragging his tongue along the laurels that beautifully framed his erection. “Get the book, will you?” He said before sucking a bruise that would soon fade on Harry's inner thigh. 

“Hum? What?” Harry panted, supporting himself on his elbows and looking down at Louis with a confused expression on his face. 

“Want to listen to you read while I suck you,” Louis explained, taking Harry into his hand and squeezing him lightly.

Harry let out a low laugh that turned into a sigh. 

“You little freak,” he said with a smirk and grabbed The Goldfinch from the bedside table. 

“Won't start until you do,” Louis said, letting his lips ghost over the head of Harry's cock and jerking him slowly. 

“Alright, let's see,” Harry started and opened the book towards the end, flicking quickly to the pages. He made a show of clearing his throat and read in a deep, low voice. “A great sorrow, and one that I am only beginning to understand,” he started, only to stop and stare at Louis, who was teasing the head of his cock with slow kisses and licks.

“Go on,” Louis urged him. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the mattress and poured some on his fingers. 

“We don’t get to choose our own hearts. We can’t make ourselves want what’s good for us or what’s good for other people.” Harry stopped and sucked in a breath as Louis took him in his mouth and hollowed his cheeks. “We don’t get to choose the people we are.”

“Your voice is such a turn on,” Louis whispered against Harry's erection as he licked along the shaft, coating it with saliva. He gently slid two fingers inside Harry, who was relaxed enough to take them without a hitch. When Harry didn't continue, he stopped and looked up with his eyebrows raised. Harry shook his head and turned his attention back to the book.

“What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can't be trusted? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons,” Harry continued, but his breath was starting to become labored and one of his hands was planted firmly on Louis' head, “leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong s-s-social connections-” his words turned into a delicious moan when Louis grazed over his prostate softly.

Harry was struggling to keep his eyes open, the book almost falling from his grasp. Louis stopped with him. Harry whined and kept on reading.

“And all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster?If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it be-better to turn away?” Harry swallowed thickly. “Lou, I can't focus right now, if feels too good,” he said, and his hand guided Louis' head lower as he moved his hips to meet both Louis' mouth and fingers. 

It was Louis' turn to growl. Harry tasted so good and was heavy in his mouth, and all he wanted was to suck him until he came, whether he was reading or not. But he was a man with a purpose. He carefully slid another finger in.

“Read one more paragraph for me, Haz,” he said and Harry obliged. His eyes were glossy and Louis could only imagine the effort he was making to concentrate enough to focus them on the page. His voice was high-pitched as he read in between gasps. 

“Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you?” Harry let out a long, throaty moan and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing, “Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow- being somehow a better person?”

Louis bobbed his head faster and started working him in rhythm with his hand. 

“Fuck. Or- or is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?” Harry finished and closed his eyes. “Make me come, Lou. Please.”

Louis moaned and did what he was asked. A few more swirls of his tongue and curling of his fingers and Harry was losing control. He came fast and hard, eyes closed and mouth open. His breathing was fast and shallow as Louis let him ride through it, only pulling away when Harry's brows started to furrow as he became too sensitive. 

“Jesus, Harry. Your voice,” Louis said, bending his body half way out of the bed to grab something in the pocket of his jeans. 

Harry had his hands covering his face, his chest going up and down with his breath. Louis knew he was too distracted, too caught up in his post-orgasm state to notice what Louis was doing. With a smirk he quickly got the condom he'd brought and tore the wrapper open, as silently as he could. He rolled it on his cock and slicked it up with lube.

“It was amazing, Lou. The things you do with your tongue, I swear-” he finally opened his eyes and looked up at Louis, who was positioning himself between Harry's spread legs. He quickly glanced down and up at Louis' face again.

“Oh yeah, I didn't forget the condoms, by the way,” Louis said before sliding himself in with a long roll of his hips, unable to contain a smug smile at Harry's reaction.

“You little shit,” Harry moaned, stretching out the words as Louis filled him. He threw his head back and started panting again. “You tricked me. Oh, fuck. Feels so good.”

“Are you mad?” Louis asked, lowering his torso and bringing his lips to Harry's neck. He licked the shell of Harry's ear, who shivered beneath him. 

“How can I be mad with you balls deep in me?” He answered and Louis laughed, moving his hips back and forth in a slow, steady pace. 

“Good to know,” he said, but the situation was losing its humor, giving place to a much needier feeling, of being inside the warmth of Harry's body. Harry was feeling it, too.

“Faster, Lou,” he breathed out, and captured Louis' lips in a heated kiss. 

Louis let himself move faster, feeding the urge building up inside him. Harry was swallowing his whimpers as he supported himself on his forearms next to Harry's head on the pillow. It made them amazingly close and intimate.

Louis could feel his skin starting to get damp with sweat, sliding against Harry's. He sped up his pace even more.

“Lou, Lou, God, Lou,” Harry was chanting against his neck, and he could feel his cock getting full and hard again, trapped between their bodies.

“You're so hot, Harry, you feel so good,” Louis whispered and bit down hard on Harry's shoulder, relieving some of the pressure that came over him. Harry gasped and wrapped his impossibly long legs around Louis' torso, pulling him even close. 

Louis pulled his face away just enough to look down at Harry. He had his eyes open and was breathing hard through his nose, his brows furrowed. A little bit of hair was stuck to his damp temples.

“So beautiful,” Louis whispered, tracing Harry's lips with the tips of his fingers. He whimpered when Harry opened his mouth and sucked two of Louis' fingers inside. Harry's mouth was hot and wet and he was moving his tongue against Louis' fingers as he moaned and sucked hard. 

“I could come just from the sight of you,” he said as his thrusts became harder and deeper. He lifted himself up but kept his fingers inside Harry's mouth as he kneeled and continued pounding hard, making Harry move higher up on the bed. 

“Lou,” Harry moaned around his fingers and started jerking himself off, not straying his eyes away from Louis' for a second. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis closed his eyes for a second, controlling his breathing and slowing down. 

“Don't stop,” Harry whined, “I'm so close.”

“I just need a minute,” he said, his hips moving constantly but slowly.

“Want me to ride you?” Harry asked with a glint in his eyes. Louis shook his head.

“Get them wet,” he said and put his fingers inside Harry's mouth again, who was quick to wrap his lips around them. He moaned when Louis picked up his pace again, smashing their hips together with every thrust.

He pulled his fingers out of Harry's mouth and wrapped them around Harry's cock. He hissed and sank his head in the pillow.

“Come for me, Haz,” Louis said and that seemed to tip Harry over the edge. His hand was soon wet with Harry's come and he couldn't take his eyes off of him. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous when he came, and Louis was always lost for a moment whenever he saw Harry like that.

“Fuck, Lou. You're amazing,” Harry breathed out and grabbed Louis arms, pulling his down flush against his chest. “Your turn to come,” he whispered hotly against Louis' ear.

And all Louis could taste and smell and feel and hear was Harry, Harry, Harry, and it was just too much. He came with a grunt and a bite to Harry's neck. He felt wave after wave hit him and he was too overwhelmed to move or say anything for a full minute. His breathing was almost back to normal when he spoke.

“Am I too heavy on you?” He asked Harry, who had been running his hands on his back all the time it took him to recover.

“Not at all. It's a good kind of weight,” Harry whispered back, and he could hear the smile in Harry's voice. 

He slipped out of Harry with a hiss and quickly tied the condom to throw out later. For now, he just laid down again on top of Harry and he couldn't think of a better place to be for the rest of his life. 

“Lou?” Harry whispered, almost too low to be heard.

“What?” He said, and propped himself on his elbows to look at Harry.

“I got a job offer,” he said, flatly.

“You did? For real? Where?” Louis eyes lit up and he broke into a grin that made Harry smile as well. He felt Harry's fingers curl up in his damp hair. 

“This modelling agency in central London. They want me to do some practice shoots so I can work for them in their studio.”

“Harry! That's great” Louis almost shouted, kissing Harry on the lips and laughing into the kiss.

“It is, isn't it?” Harry said, and sighed.

“You don't seem too happy about it, love. What's the matter? Is the pay not good?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“The pay is great for what I'll be doing,” Harry admitted with a forced smile, “and it's only a tube ride away.”

“Then what is it?” Louis said with a tilt of his head.

“It's just that...I don't know.” Harry said and rolled to his side, making Louis have to move away from him. Louis rolled to the side as well, facing Harry. Harry turned his head down, but Louis touched his chin and gently moved his face up. “I'm not sure if that's what I want.”

“How come?” Louis asked, and started a trail a kisses from Harrys left cheek, up to his forehead, down his nose and on his mouth. Harry giggled and Louis smiled fondly at him. 

“I don't want to photograph models with their hair and make up done, all in forced poses and with fake smiles in designer clothes. This is not what I like to photograph. I had the most fun photographing for the project, and I...” Harry chewed on his bottom lip, “and I sound awfully conceited and ungrateful, don't it?”

“No, of course not,” Louis ran his hands up and down Harry's arm soothingly. 

“It's a great opportunity, honestly. I would get the chance of entering a very strict and selective group, and here I am whining about not photographing “real life” like a proper hipster.”

Louis laughed at that.

“Harry, if it's not what you want to do, don't do it. God knows I don't want you to make the same mistake I did and end up doing something just because you feel like you have to.”

Harry looked down and up again, meeting Louis' gaze.

“That's what I was thinking about, you know. How much more you like gardening than your actual job. I feel like shit just by thinking about it.”

“You shouldn't, it's the truth,” Louis assured him, “and I'd rather have you happy and doing what you like than having a proper job and hating it.”

“I don't think I'd hate it, that's the worst of it. I think I'd be very happy with it, but...” Harry trailed off.

“Not as happy as you want to be,” Louis finished for him, and Harry smiled.

“Is it too much to ask for something great? Instead of just good? I don't think I'm really in the position to choose here.”

“You are always in the position to choose, Haz. Always.” Lous said and Hary curled up to him. He held him close and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of Harry, a mix of shampoo and cologne and sweat, “your name and work are out there, this won't be the only opportunity for you. You'll do great things in any job you decide to take.”

“I've scraped almost enough money to do this course I've had my eye on for a while. It was actually the reason why I moved here in the first place,” Harry said, pulling away just enough to face Louis with green-lit eyes. “I think a few more hundred pounds and I'll be settled to start. I really, really want to take this course. What I'll learn and the name of it on my curriculum will be a game changer, I'm sure. And the agency job would help with the money, but what if I get comfortable there and decide I don't want to study anymore? Or worse, what if I work there, take the course and still don't want to leave, opting to be financially stable and- ” Harry was blurting out the words.

“Shhh, love,” Louis stopped his ramblings with a gentle kiss. “You don't have to decide anything just yet.”

“The thing is, I think I already did. I don't want it.”

“Then that's settled,” Louis smiled and Harry smiled back with a sigh of relief. “And it makes me proud of you for not settling down to things that won't make you happy.”

“I really don't. Except when it comes to boyfriends, and then I'm fine with whoever.” Harry said with a curl of his lips.

“Excuse me? Since when are we boyfriends?” Louis faked shock.

“You're my boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson. Sorry to break it like this to you, but you are.”

Louis sighed dramatically, trying his hardest to pretend he didn't enjoy the idea quite a lot. 

“Fine, I guess I can live with that.”

Harry grinned and kissed him.

“You have great taste in boyfriends, then,” Louis teased.

“I really do. Can't be with anyone who can't make me see stars when I come,” Harry nibbled on Louis' neck, “or who can't handle a joke or a good pun.”

“Love your puns. They make me want to scrape my face off, but they're great.” Louis said, tugging at his hair and earning himself a low rumble from Harry's throat. 

“Perfect boyfriend material, we are,” Harry joked and rolled onto his back. “Want to join me for a shower?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

“But I'm so comfortable here,” Louis said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

“We're disgusting. There's dried come in both our stomachs and, if I'm being honest, I think there's even a little bit in my ear.” 

Louis laughed and shook his head.

“Nope, I think your ear is fine.”

“My ass is drenched with lube,” Harry tried a different approach. “And we can fool around in the shower a bit.” This one seemed to work.

“I'm up,” Louis said with a jolt and sprang out of bed. Harry laughed and followed him to the bathroom. 

“I know how much you like a good blowjob in the shower, although I think I'm done for the night. You drained me completely, I'm impressed” Harry said as he turned the water on.

“Let's see. I have a naked, wet and hot Harry kneeled in front of me. What's not to like? And I think I can make you come one more time.” Louis said with a smirk as he stepped under the hot water. 

“Should we turn this into a competition? To see who can make the other come more times?” Harry said with poorly concealed excitement in his voice.

“Now _that_ is a great idea.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so happy you have read all the way through here!  
> Again, there's a little smut in this chapter. It's right in the beginning, so you can go straight to the sentence: Harry giggled and laid on his back.

Louis took a deep breath and closed his eyes, arching his body backwards to press against Harry's. It was a July morning and he was feeling so, so hot. Not only because of the warm summer air that came through the open window, but also because of the heat of Harry's body pressed up against his back as they both laid on their sides. 

“Feels good, huh?” Harry whispered against his ear, moving his body forward. They both had their underwear down and Harry's cock was deliciously placed between Louis' butt cheeks. Harry's long fingers were circling Louis' cock and moving deliciously, making him whimper and seek more friction with every thrust of Harry's hips.

“Dry humping is seriously underrated,” Louis said lowly and Harry chuckled before squeezing his fingers around him just a little harder. Louis moaned and threw his head back. He could feel his skin getting slick with sweat and the base of his back wet with precome. 

Harry kept rubbing against him in a way that was so erotic that Louis was feeling his face getting red. Harry was breathing directly in his ear, and the hot panting was driving him wild. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin as Harry worked magic with his hand, stroking him lazily. 

Louis pressed back, as if it were possible for them to be closer than they already were. 

“Wanna make you come,” Harry whispered in his ear and started to nibble slightly on Louis' neck, making him shiver. He also started jerking him faster, and maybe they had only been doing that for ten minutes, but Louis was ready to let go.

With a muffled cry into his pillow, Louis let his orgasm wash over him, thrusting up into Harry's fist as he came. He was still feeling dizzy from it when Harry grunted deep in his throat and he felt his back getting wet when Harry came, his whole body pressed firmly against him. 

“I get the appeal of being the little spoon, now,” Louis said and turned to his side, feeling the damp sheets underneath him.

Harry giggled and laid on his back. 

“Nothing like waking up with a hard-on against your bum,” Harry said with a grin, still breathing a little fast. Louis watched his skin glisten around his neck and couldn't resist licking the salty skin. He felt Harry shiver under him.

“Great way to start the day,” Louis said, removing his underwear and using it to clean both of them, “What time are you going to the gallery?”

“I was thinking around one. I could grab you and Niall some lunch and head over there.”

Harry had developed the habit of going to the gallery a few days a week. He was immensely surprised to see that it was always crowded. It was also showcasing the works of a famous sculptor, and she was popular enough to draw attention to the gallery, but most people wandered to the room with his pictures as well and actually stayed there.

The pictures were going to be up for only one more week, but neither of them was worried about that. 

Harry had gotten an amazing free lance opportunity. A magazine, not a big one, if he was being honest, had commissioned him to make a similar project, photographing the people who lived on the streets of central London. 

Louis was worried sick everytime Harry spent the night wandering the streets of London, chatting with homeless people and taking their picture. Harry insisted on doing it only at night, because he wanted the pictures to have a particular feel to them. Louis could kick his artistic ass.

He'd gone with him once or twice, but people grew very suspicious when they both showed up to talk to them. Harry was a lot less frightening with his friendly smile and camera in his hands. Louis understood their caution, of course he did. Still, he barely slept those nights and was constantly checking his phone for messages. 

He was jumping with joy when Harry announced he thought he'd talked to enough people and that was taking the pictures to the magazine to be selected, since they were only publishing ten. 

“Let's take a shower and I'll cook you breakfast, yeah?” Harry said, nuzzling his neck and Louis stretched himself on the bed. It was still nine and he didn't have to open the pub until eleven.

“Sounds great,” he said, sitting up on the bed. His phone rang and Niall's face appeared on the screen. He yawned and got up on wobbly legs. “Hey, Niall. What's up?”

“Louis! You're not going to believe this!” Niall's excited tone and following laughter made him raise his eyebrows and crack a smile. Harry looked at him and Louis put the phone on speaker.

“Harry's here too, to hear the good news. Whatever it is.”

“You both better stop shagging and listen to me!”

“We're listening, Nialler,” Harry said with a chuckle and they both sat on the edge of the bed. 

“So I woke up, was having a cuppa and browsing Instagram. I was checking the hashtag pubwilliams when I saw it!”

“Saw what, man? Come on, spill it,” Louis was growing impatient. 

“Oliver Thomas saw your pictures, Harry! And he's coming to the pub!”

“What? Oliver Thomas? Are you serious?!” Harry's excited voice now matched Niall's, and Louis stared at him and the phone in confusion.

“Who is Oliver Thomas?” He asked, only to have a gaping Harry staring at him.

“Oh for fuck's sake, Louis! Stop sounding like you're sixty years old.” Niall's metallic voice was mocking him.

“Sorry, but I can't know every person on this planet,” he said, defensive.

“I follow this guy, he's a popular blogger among young people,” Harry patiently explained, “and he has like, fifty thousand followers on Instagram, and he blogs about food and stuff.”

“He followed you, Harry. Go check it!” Niall said and Harry rolled on the bed to get his phone.

“Oh my God, he really did! Look, he's following me! And he posted about the pub!”

Louis looked at the cellphone in Harry's hand. There was a picture of a man in either his late twenties or early thirties, brown hair and eyes, standing inside the gallery, clearly in the room where Harry's pictures  
were being showcased, but not showing any of them clearly. It was captioned

“Crazy art installation by @hestylesphotography, his project #peopleoftottenham is incredible! Makes me want to visit the #pubwilliams to meet these people. Will stop by tomorrow, who's with me?”

Followed by the address of both the art gallery and the pub. Louis' jaw dropped.

“So you're saying that fifty thousand people will see this?” He asked Harry, who was beaming at him.

“I hope you are well stocked on drinks, Lou,” he said.

“It's going to be wild, man! Wild!” Niall was screaming from the other end of the line. 

“We can't...We can't have that many people here.” Louis was starting to panic.

“We won't have thirty thousand people, numbnut,” Niall said.

“I know, but still. If like, one hundred people show up, what are we going to do? We don't have enough food, we don't have enough tables, we don't have enough staff.”

Louis ran his hand through his hair, feeling the panic rise.

“We'll work it out. You can give me a crash course on how to serve drinks, we can rent more tables and put them on the pavement and Niall can stop at the shops before coming. Can't you, Niall?” Harry asked the phone.

“Already grabbing my keys, mate.”

“Great, we'll put some clothes on and we'll head downstairs to prep the food we already have.” 

Louis was eternally grateful for Harry dealing with the situation so well. 

“Wait, did you have your dicks out throughout this whole conversation?” Niall asked, and they could hear a door closing loudly. 

“We did. Sorry, mate. If this makes you feel any better, we weren't touching them.” Harry said with a chuckle.

“Gross, you're both gross. See you in a bit!” He hung up and Louis stared at Harry.

“I'm so sorry this is the last week of your pictures being showcased. You are going to have so many more people coming now, and it's almost over,” Louis said.

“Are you being serious? You get the chance to have this place blown up to the general public and all you think about are my pictures?” Harry said and he sounds incredulous. He pulled Louis in for a hug, “You're unbelievable. Come, let's go wash up. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“You don't need to stay, though. You can go to the gallery and Niall and I will hold down the fort.”

“Nah, I really wanna do it,” he said as he led them to the bathroom. “I will put on some extra tight jeans and make a fortune on tips.”

Louis laughed and followed him. He would be forever thankful to Harry for his support. 

And what a long day it was. Louis had to call four different places until he found one to provide tables and chairs in such short notice. In the mean time, Niall and Harry were in the kitchen prepping for the few food items on the menu. In between chopping vegetables for the piccalilli, Harry and Niall still found the time to nag him on the lack of eating options, especially Niall. 

“People come here to drink, not eat,” he found himself saying for the hundredth time, “you should be glad there are such few things to prep for, you know. Come here, Harry. Let me teach you how to pour a nice pint with no foam and how to mix up a few drinks.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry left the kitchen at the same time Niall spoke.

“No kinky shit when I'm around.”

They chuckled and went to the bar. In about twenty minutes Harry had managed to learn the basics, but they both thought it would be better if he stuck to pints and snacks.

People started pouring in at around two o'clock. It was a Friday so some movement was expected, but they were glad to see that most people were not familiar faces, coming because they were curious about the place. Came six o'clock and they were swamped. 

“People are getting hungry, now,” Harry said as he passed by Louis, carrying a tray with chips and full glasses. 

“It's just getting started,” Louis told him, and as he stressed out as he was, he was also happy. He couldn't remember seeing as many people at the pub than there were that night. 

When the blogger arrived, a few people recognized him and he stayed for a good couple of hours. Louis watched as he and Harry talked about photography for some time. He saw them exchanging phone numbers and smiled to himself. Harry looked happy and in his element.

Louis was also pleased because Oliver asked if he could come and take some pictures when the place was not so crowded and write about it in his blog. He saw Harry's eyes bulge and his huge grin as he put two thumbs up behind the blogger's back when Louis said yes, of course he could. 

The night was spent in a blur of drinks and laughter and selfies that people insisted on taking with Louis. It was over one o'clock when the last person bid their goodbyes and the three of them slumped on chairs around a table that needed some deep cleaning. 

“How do you guys do it every night? My feet are killing me,” Harry said with a wince as he removed his boots and wiggled his toes.

“I told you to change into some trainers,” Louis said as he put Harry's feet in his lap and started to knead his fingers through the pads of his feet, “Besides, it's never this crowded.”

“I've got a load of tips, though. The rich kids coming in were very generous.” Harry said and reached to the front of his black apron, pulling out a wad of cash. Small bills, but still. He handed them over to Louis.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked him, eyeing the money on the table in front of him.

“There's probably seventy quid there, I was trying to keep count but lost it after a few pints. There was this woman who was clearly trying to get me drunk,” he laughed. 

“I don't want this money. It's yours, these are your tips.”

“Nah, don't want it either. I was doing a friend a favour.”

“You've earned it, mate,” Niall chimed in, “It's more than fair that you keep it.”

“I didn't pay you for working tonight, this is the least I could do.” Louis insisted, and Harry caught the money again. 

“In this case, thanks,” he said, and removed his feet from Louis' hands. “It's been a great night, fellas, but I'll head home and sleep like I'm dead.”

“Stay over tonight,” Louis said as he slipped his boots back on and they all stood up. 

“You're tired, too. Are you sure?”

Louis nodded and added, “Niall, you can crash here tonight as well, It's late and you're overworked. We'll just lock up and tomorrow morning I'll check everything.”

“I'm fine,” Niall replied and yawned as he put on a jacket, “It's a warm night and I could use a walk.”

“Text me when you get home,” Louis said and hugged him at the door, “Thanks for everything, Niall. This place wouldn't be the same without you here.”

“I know, you need some Irish blood to keep this place going,” Niall joked and waved Harry goodbye, “See you tomorrow. It's going to be a busy Saturday, I hope.”

Louis locked the door after him and found Harry waiting for him at the kitchen door.

“Come, let's sleep,” he called after him and Louis followed him up the stairs with heavy eyes. They didn't bother showering, just removed their clothes and collapsed into bed.

“We didn't brush our teeth,” Louis pointed out as he got comfortable next to Harry in bed.

“I think they won't rot and fall off just yet,” Harry assured him and they snuggled up closer. Harry let out a long sigh and kissed Louis softly on the lips. “Night, Lou.”

Louis circled Harry's waist with his arm and rested his head on Harry's pillow, the tips of their nose touching. He felt as Harry's breathing became long and even. Still, he needed to say it.

“You were right, Haz.” 

Harry's eyes opened slowly and his voice was thick with sleep when he spoke.

“About what?”

“About the times being different. About what worked for my father to keep this place open wouldn't necessarily work for me.”

“Humm,” was Harry's sleepy reply, but he was making an effort to stay awake. 

“The place was full because there were new people. I think I might have to change things up a bit, but I see it's worth it, now.”

“Good, I'm happy,” Harry mumbled and Louis smiled fondly before pressing his lips to Harry's partially opened ones. 

July flew by. More and more people were coming to the pub, and Louis was getting optimistic about its finances. Maybe they would manage to stay afloat after all. The blogger Oliver wrote a piece about the pub on his website and many young people came to check the place, which was nice enough for them to come back.

One of Louis' biggest concerns was that the new clients would scare away the old ones. He watched how they reacted closely, but he was surprised to see that they didn't mind it at all. A few of them actually came up to him to say that they were happy to see new faces around and that the place was full again, just like it had been in the old days. Louis' sigh of relief was heard all the way to central London.

He let Niall take care of their social media. Just the thought of it made Louis roll his eyes. He set up a Facebook page, an Instagram and Twitter. Harry was in charge of the pictures for most of these, and Louis' job was to run the place and look pretty in the background, according to Harry. 

The more Louis thought about how things had turned out, the more he was convinced he needed to do something about the nagging voice that lived in the back of his mind. He'd shared his thoughts with Harry, who couldn't have been more supportive. 

“Did you manage to talk to Lottie?” He asked him as they sat on the bench in the garden, enjoying the cool shade during Louis' break. It was the first week of August and the summer heat was in full force. 

“Yeah, she's totally fine with it. I knew she would, mum told me that they'd talked before.”

“But it was nice of you to talk to her personally about it.” Harry pointed out, and Louis nodded. 

“I'll talk to Niall later tonight. Tuesdays are slow and I think we won't close so late.”

“Can I be there too, when you tell him? I'm curious to see his reaction.”

“Sure, I think he'll need some convincing and you can help me with that,” Louis said with a smile and Harry beamed at him.

“That little Irish boy won't know what hit him.”

Louis was surprisingly nervous that night. It was a big decision and he knew it. Time seemed to drag, and he was grateful for Harry's company to keep him distracted. It was after eleven when the last customer left and they were alone.

“Hey, Niall. Can I talk to you for a sec?” He said, and Niall held up the bills he was counting from behind the register.

“Three hundred fifty seven, three hundred fifty eight, thee hundred fifty nine...three hundred sixty. We're short on five,” he reached inside the front pocked of his jeans and added five pounds from his own tips to the cash in his hands, “there, now it's fine.”

“I told you to stop putting your money in it,” Louis said and motioned for them to sit at a table.

“Five quid won't make me poorer,” Niall said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“They won't make me richer, either,” he shot back.

“Fine, if either of you don't want it I'll take the five, then,” Harry said dramatically.

“Good, I need a new pair of socks,” Niall said with a wink. 

Harry had developed the habit of helping them out some nights, when things got particularly busy. All of the tips he earned, from the very first night, were spent on gifts to Niall and Louis. A T-shirt for Niall, a pot for Louis' flowers, coasters for Niall's collection, little things he found that made him think of them. 

“So, what's up?” Niall asked, crossing his arms on the table. 

“There's something I need to talk to you about.” Louis started, struggling to find the words.

“Are you breaking up with me? Because I'll take Harry with me if you do.” Niall joked and Louis smiled.

“No, it's more of a favour that I need to ask.”

“What is it, man? I'll do it,” Niall said, suddenly serious. Louis and Harry exchanged a glance, and Harry nodded. 

“Here,” Louis said and fished out the keys to the pub from his pocket.

“What? You need me to close up tonight?” Niall asked, brows furrowed, taking the keys.

“Yeah, not just tonight, though.”

“Are you going on a holiday or something?” He asked, and he grinned widely, “Are you two going off in a honeymoon?”

Harry laughed. “I wish,” he said. 

“What, then? I don't understand.” Niall said, and Louis took a deep breath.

“I want you to have the pub, Niall.”

Niall blinked and looked from Louis to Harry and back to Louis again.

“I still don't get it, mate.”

“I'm leaving you the pub, I'm out.” Louis leaned back in his chair.

“What do you mean you're out? Don't be stupid. Here,” he tried handing the keys back to Louis, but he put his hands inside his pockets.

“They're yours, the pub is yours now. If you want it, of course,” he was quick to add.

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Lou?!” Niall got up from the chair and tossed the keys on the table in front of Louis. 

“I'm serious, Niall. I don't want it anymore, and I want you to have it.”

“You want me to have it? Just like that? You're giving me the keys and I own it?” Niall asked, gesticulating hard with his hands, his Irish accent getting thicker as he became agitated. 

“I can't think of a better person to run it. Honestly, Niall, I think you like this place more than I do.” 

“This was your grandpa's pub. You dad's pub. It's _your_ pub!” Niall was pacing back and forth across the pub. Harry got up and went to him, rubbing his shoulders and arms. 

“You're right, but you've been working here even before you were legal to drink. You own this place just as much as I do. More, now.”

“You're crazy to think that I would ever accept, Lou.”

“Niall, sit down. Please,” Louis asked, and Niall huffed. He sat down anyway. “Niall, I'm shit at running this place. If it weren't for Harry we'd be closed by now. You're worked more extra hours here than I could ever pay you. You care about the clients, you care about the place. You're brilliant, Niall. You could have chosen any other career but you've decided this is where you wanted to work.”

“I like the job. I like you.” Niall said, and Louis could see he was calmer now. “But this place isn't only yours to give. It's your mum and sisters' too.”

“Talked to them already. My mum is happy to let the place go. Niall, how many times has she been here in the past few years?”

“Not many,” Niall admitted.

“She hates this place, and you know it as well as I do. It's a painful reminder of my dad's infidelity, of his running from us.”

“What about your sisters?”

“Lottie and Fizzy couldn't care less about it. They call it “the pit” sometimes, because it only eats away money. The twins are too young to take a part in this decision, but I checked with them anyway and their answer was, and I quote, “whatever”. It's really fine.”

“But we're making more money now!” Niall pointed out.

“Niall, they wouldn't work here for all the money in the world. And they never saw no profit coming from it, either. It has been my burden, only. Believe me when I say that it's all worked out among us.”

Silence fell on the table, Niall was tapping his foot on the floor, his gaze intense.

“Give me a minute,” he said and went to the kitchen.

Louis looked at Harry.

“Do you think he'll take it?” He asked, and Harry held his hand.

“I think he will, yeah. Maybe not tonight, but he likes the idea, I think.” Harry said and Louis nodded. 

Niall burst away from the kitchen not even two minutes after he entered. He had his phone in his hand.

“I was doing the math and I can pay you a thousand quid a month, for how long it takes for me to pay you back. I still need to look into how much that will be.”

“No way! You're not paying me anything,” Louis said, holding his hands in front of him.

“Fuck it, Louis! I won't take this place for free!” Niall shouted and they all stood up.

“Niall, listen to me,” Louis walked to him and put his hand on his shoulders, “This place cost me absolutely nothing. I inherited it, and so did my dad. When my grandpa bought it the land was worth shit, and you don't owe me a penny.”

“Then I won't take it.”

Louis groaned in frustration. He felt Harry's hand on his shoulder.

“Jesus, Niall. Why are you being so difficult? I don't wanna work here anymore, I want to do something else with my life. If you don't take it I'm gonna close it.”

“You could sell it to somebody else, for good money.” 

“But I don't want to! I want _you_ to have it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look, here's what we can do. Let me keep upstairs to myself, okay? I'll continue living here, rent free. This is your way of paying me back, not charging me rent. I would move out and let you have the whole place, maybe even change flats with you, but I'm not ready to leave the garden. Not yet.”

“I'd never ask you to, mate,” Niall said and bit his lips. “It's just too much, I can't take it.”

“Oh for God's sake, Niall! Accept the damn pub.” Harry's voice startled them, and they all burst into a laugh, the tension fading like magic. 

“I'll help you out until you find somebody to replace me, okay?” Louis was saying, “I don't need to teach you a thing about running this place, you know all the suppliers and can do absolutely anything here. I can help you train somebody and all you'll have to deal with is me crossing the pub when I need to get in and out. We can find a way to open a back door or something.”

“No, never. I love you and I want to have you around.”

“I love you, too.” Louis said and they hugged, long and hard.

“My babies,” Harry wiped a fake tear from his eye and joined them in the hug. 

“Does that mean you'll take it?” Louis said, hopeful.

“Give me the fucking keys, mate,” Niall said and Louis laughed out loud, handing him the keychain and shaking his hands.

“Congratulations, you are now the proud owner of this washed out pub. We'll start working on the paperwork tomorrow. Just do me a favour, will you?”

“Anything,” Niall said with a huge grin.

“Change this goddamn floor. Put on checkered tiles or something.”

Niall chuckled.

“It will be the first thing on my to-do list. Hey, Lou? What are you going to do now? With work and such?”

“No idea, man. I just wanted out. Maybe I'll look for something in landscaping. Harry here said he can take some nice pictures of the garden to show people my talent. Maybe some rich folks will hire me to remodel their backyard.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Niall said with a smile.

“I think so, too.”

~x~

The whole thing was stupid. Out of all their stupid ideas, this one had to take the cake. 

“Maybe we can finish a bottle this time,” Harry said and passed Louis the champagne. 

“If it rains, you're getting me a new mattress,” Louis said before taking a big gulp. 

“Deal,” Harry said with a smirk.

They were both sitting down on Louis' mattress, which had been brought up to the garden and laid down on the palleted floor. Harry looked gorgeous in that low lighting, and Louis had already kissed him countless times while they were up there. 

When Harry had called him earlier that night with the good news, Louis was thrilled. Harry had managed to get into the photography course he'd wanted for so long, and Louis couldn't be happier for him. They had wonderful celebratory sex and Louis was more than pleased with a nice cuddle before going to sleep, but Harry had other ideas.

Harry knew Louis denied him nothing, and that was how he found himself hauling up a goddamn mattress up to the roof. It took them some time and Louis' arms were sore, but Harry was delighted to be sleeping outside, so who was he to complain, really. They'd brought up all the pillows Louis owned and were now drinking to Harry's new course, which was to begin the following month.

“I like the way we celebrate things,” Harry said, scooting over to Louis and putting his arm across his shoulder. Louis leaned against him.

They were wearing shorts and t-shirts only. It was a warm night, but they were smart enough to bring a blanket because it was bound to get chilly during the night. For now, they were comfortable wrapped up in Harry's “hanging out in the garden” playlist and the sweet smell of all the gardens' flowers blooming. 

“Yeah, the only thing missing is a fire and we'd be full on camping.” Louis joked, but Harry's eyes lit up, “We are not starting a fire up here, Harry Styles.”

“Fine, you're such an adult sometimes,” Harry mocked and Louis set the bottle aside and laid them both down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, crossing his hands behind his back. The first piano notes of Counting Crows' Holiday In Spain filled the air, and Harry hummed to the tune beside him. 

“Sing for me, love,” he asked and Harry's mouth close to him made him shiver.

“We've got airplane rides, we've got California drowning at the window side,” he sang along, voice low and deep, “We've got big black cars and we've got stories of how we slept with all the movie stars.” 

Louis felt the tips of Harrys's hair tickling his nose and opened his eyes to find Harry holding a bunch of his twisted hair and hovering over him. He giggled and brushed his hand away. When Harry started to sing again Louis could hear the smile in his voice.

“I may take a holiday in Spain, leave my wings behind me,” he ran his fingers on Louis face, “Drink my worries down the drain and fly away to somewhere new.” 

Louis sighed happily and captured Harry's lips in a soft kiss. 

“We should go on a holiday, for real,” Harry said. 

“To Spain?” Louis said with a smile.

“Anywhere. To Spain, Denmark, the USA, Brazil. Anywhere would be nice.”

“Maybe we'll both get rich doing what we love and be able to afford holidays like that,” Louis mused and Harry smiled down at him.

“Maybe. I'm happy just staying here, with you,” he said, and laid down next to Louis. They were silent for a few moments, enjoying the music and their company.

“Haz?” Louis said, turning his head to the side to face Harry, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Harry said, laying on his side.

“For being a good example for me.”

Harry chuckled. “What?”

“You taught me not to settle for less. What you did, all you did, gave me the courage to, you know. Let it go.”

Harry's smile was brighter than the full moon. “You're welcome.”

And it was true, Louis truly was thankful. He was also terrified, but that came with a life-altering decision like that. But he knew he was smart and capable, he would fend for himself like he'd done his entire life. Maybe now he'd be happier doing it. 

Louis laid on his side as well and let Harry kiss him. They were lazy, slow kisses, with no second intentions behind them. 

A sudden cool wind swept them, and leaves from the tree fell over them. Harry rubbed Louis' arm warm, and whispered in his ear. “Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...” Harry stopped and chewed on his bottom lip, looking unsure. “Now that we've known each other for some time now, have been together for a while, do you consider me a leaf in your life? Am I your leaf?”

He looked so insecure that Louis held both his hands in his and smiled wide. His feelings for this boy were greater than he could ever imagine feeling. 

“You're not just a leaf, Harry. You are the whole tree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, you've made it! Thank you so much for reading my story! It was my first in the One Direction fandom, so I would really appreciate kudos and any comment you'd like to leave. Constructive criticism is very important for me. I hope to see you soon :D
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr!](http://pinky-heaven19.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, if you liked this story, there is a [rebloggable](http://pinky-heaven19.tumblr.com/post/163063074574/pinky-heaven19-hidden-gardens-by-pinkyheaven19) post you can use to help me spread the fic around!


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